" "But what signature?" I wondered to
myself, reflecting that he had as yet had none of mine. Could it be the
signature of my New York banker or my London one? I repaired once more
to the window, after another wait, and said in polite but firm
Castilian, "Do me the favor to return me my letter." A commotion of
protest took place within the barrier, followed by the repeated
explanation that the director was verifying the signature. I returned to
toy place and considered that the suspicious document which I had
presented bore record of moneys drawn in London, in Paris, in Tours, in
San Sebastian, which ought to have allayed all suspicion; then for the
last time I repaired to the window; more in anger now than in sorrow,
and gathered nay severest Spanish together for a final demand: "Do me
the favor to give me back my letter _without the pounds sterling."_ The
clerks consulted together; one of them decided to go to the director's
room, and after a dignified delay he came back with my letter, and
dashed it down before me with the only rudeness I experienced in Spain.
I was glad to get it on any terms; it was only too probable that it
would have been returned without the money if I had not demanded it; and
I did what I could with the fact that this amusing financial
transaction, involving a total of fifty dollars, had taken place in the
chief banking-house of one of the commercial and industrial centers of
the country.
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