o in his perturbation
did not observe. In a few words the youth related what had happened
and made known his desire to go to Hongkong.

"Why?" asked Simoun, staring fixedly at Placido through his blue
goggles.

Placido did not answer, so Simoun threw back his head, smiled his cold,
silent smile and said, "All right! Come with me. To Calle Iris!" he
directed the cochero.

Simoun remained silent throughout the whole drive, apparently absorbed
in meditation of a very important nature. Placido kept quiet, waiting
for him to speak first, and entertained himself in watching the
promenaders who were enjoying the clear moonlight: pairs of infatuated
lovers, followed by watchful mammas or aunts; groups of students
in white clothes that the moonlight made whiter still; half-drunken
soldiers in a carriage, six together, on their way to visit some nipa
temple dedicated to Cytherea; children playing their games and Chinese
selling sugar-cane. All these filled the streets, taking on in the
brilliant moonlight fantastic forms and ideal outlines. In one house
an orchestra was playing waltzes, and couples might be seen dancing
under the bright lamps and chandeliers--what a sordid spectacle they
presented in comparison with the sight the streets afforded! Thinking
of Hongkong, he asked himself if the moonlit nights in that island
were so poetical and sweetly melancholy as those of the Philippines,
and a deep sadness settled down over his heart.

Simoun ordered the carriage to stop and both alighted, just at the
moment when Isagani and Paulita Gomez passed them murmuring sweet
inanities. Behind them came Dona Victorina with Juanito Pelaez, who
was talking in a loud voice, busily gesticulating, and appearing to
have a larger hump than ever. In his preoccupation Pelaez did not
notice his former schoolmate.

"There's a fellow who's happy!" muttered Placido with a sigh,
as he gazed toward the group, which became converted into vaporous
silhouettes, with Juanito's arms plainly visible, rising and falling
like the arms of a windmill.

"That's all he's good for," observed Simoun. "It's fine to be young!"

To whom did Placido and Simoun each allude?

The jeweler made a sign to the young man, and they left the street
to pick their way through a labyrinth of paths and passageways among
various houses, at times leaping upon stones to avoid the mudholes
or stepping aside from the sidewalks that were badly constructed and
still more badly t