The musicians stood in a body, their faces turned with expressions of keen excitement toward this quarrel, but their fingers still twinkling over their instruments, sending into the middle of this turmoil the passionate, mad, Spanish music.

The proprietor of the place came in agitation and plunged headlong into the argument, where he thereafter appeared as a frantic creature harried to the point of insanity, for they buried him at once in long, vociferous threats, explanations, charges, every form of declamation known to their voices.

The music, the noise of the galloping horses, the voices of the brawlers, gave the whole thing the quality of war.
There were two men in the _cafe_ who seemed to be tranquil.

Hollanden carefully stacked one lump of sugar upon another in the middle of his saucer and poured cognac over them.

He touched a match to the cognac and the blue and yellow flames eddied in the saucer.