But it was plain that even he was overdoing his gaiety.

There were moments when a sudden contraction of the muscles would clench his hands and give a spasmodic jerk to his shoulders.

He was waiting uneasily, uncomfortably, until darkness should come.
"Eat," he cried--"eat, my friends," playing with his own barely tasted food.
And then, at a sentence from Lemerre, his knife and fork clattered on his plate, and he sat with a face suddenly grown white.
For Lemerre said, as though it was no more than a matter of ordinary comment: "So Mme.

Dauvray's jewels were, after all, never stolen ?" Hanaud started.
"You know that?
How did you know it ?" "It was in this evening's paper.

I bought one on the way here.