A speculative thrill electrifies the company.
"That'll brush business up!" says Crillon, in wonder, torn for a moment from contemplation of the hat, but promptly relapsing on it.
Joseph Boneas says to me, in an undertone,--and I am flattered,--"That Pocard is a man of no education, but he has practical sense.

That's a big idea he's got,--at least if he sees things as I see them." And I, I am thinking that if I were older or more influential in the district, perhaps I should be in the Pocard scheme, which is taking shape, and will be huge.
Meanwhile, Brisbille is scowling.

An unconfessable disquiet is accumulating in his bosom.

All this gathering is detaining him at home, and he is tormented by the desire for drink.

He cannot conceal his vinous longing, and squints darkly at the assembly.