Near the door the stout proprietress sat intrenched behind the cash-box in a Parisian manner.

She looked with practical amiability at her guests, who dined noisily and with great fire, discussing momentous problems furiously, making wide, maniacal gestures through the cigarette smoke.

Meanwhile the little handful of waiters ran to and fro wildly.
Imperious and importunate cries rang at them from all directions.
"Gustave! Adolphe!" Their faces expressed a settled despair.

They answered calls, commands, oaths in a semi-distraction, fleeting among the tables as if pursued by some dodging animal.

Their breaths came in gasps.