Presently he came rushing out and climbed into the train just as the whistle sounded, he sat down opposite Joao de Sousa, and wiped his face with a brilliant silk handkerchief.
"Well?" Joao de Sousa smiled.
"My dear boy, it was green tea that the waiter brought me. I can never drink green tea!"
The train passed through the magnificent mountains, past little farm-houses and streams. Night was coming on and the setting sun had gone down below the hills. The fat passenger saw no beauty in the scene. He yawned and uttered impatient exclamations under his breath. De Sousa heard a moan ending with the word "tea".