On the shoulder his hand rested, as by accident.
"It's the heat, old chap," he said wearily.

"Don't mind what we say to-night." Rudolph made no sign, except to move from under his hand, so that, with their quarrel between them, the two men stared out across the blanched roofs and drooping trees, where long black shadows at last crept toward the dawn.
"These heroes!" continued the mocker.

"What is danger?
Pouf--nothing! They make it for the rest of us, so easily! Do you know," his voice rose and quickened, "do you know, the other end of town is in an uproar?
We murder children, it appears, for medicine!" Rudolph started, turned, but now sat quiet under Heywood's grasp.
Chantel, in the lamplight, watched the punkahs with a hateful smile.
"The Gascons are not all dead," he murmured.

"They plunge us all into a turmoil, for the sake of a woman." He made a sudden startling gesture, like a man who has lost control.

"For the sake," he cried angrily, "of a person we all know! Oh! we all know her! She is nothing more--" There was a light scuffle at the window.
"Dr.Chantel," began Heywood, with a sharp and dangerous courtesy, "we are all unlike ourselves to-night.