The Canon Irene indulged in a rather equivocal smile, which he half hid with his hand as he rubbed his nose.
"I tell you, Ben-Zayb," continued Don Custodio, slapping the journalist on the arm, "all the trouble comes from not consulting the old-timers here.

A project in fine words, and especially with a big appropriation, with an appropriation in round numbers, dazzles, meets with acceptance at once, for this!" Here, in further explanation, he rubbed the tip of his thumb against his middle and forefinger.

[4] "There's something in that, there's something in that," Ben-Zayb thought it his duty to remark, since in his capacity of journalist he had to be informed about everything.
"Now look here, before the port works I presented a project, original, simple, useful, economical, and practicable, for clearing away the bar in the lake, and it hasn't been accepted because there wasn't any of that in it." He repeated the movement of his fingers, shrugged his shoulders, and gazed at the others as though to say, "Have you ever heard of such a misfortune ?" "May we know what it was ?" asked several, drawing nearer and giving him their attention.

The projects of Don Custodio were as renowned as quacks' specifics.
Don Custodio was on the point of refusing to explain it from resentment at not having found any supporters in his diatribe against Simoun.

"When there's no danger, you want me to talk, eh?
And when there is, you keep quiet!" he was going to say, but that would cause the loss of a good opportunity, and his project, now that it could not be carried out, might at least be known and admired.
After blowing out two or three puffs of smoke, coughing, and spitting through a scupper, he slapped Ben-Zayb on the thigh and asked, "You've seen ducks ?" "I rather think so--we've hunted them on the lake," answered the surprised journalist.
"No, I'm not talking about wild ducks, I'm talking of the domestic ones, of those that are raised in Pateros and Pasig.