question; and to her answers, clear and ready, the fat man retorted
with a gross oath.

"Excuse me, sir," began Dawson, shocked. He was aching to be on the
woman's side.

"Vott" demanded the fat man.

"That's hardly the way to speak to a lady," said Dawson gravely.

The tall man burst into a clear laugh, and the fat man glared at
Dawson. He flinched somewhat, but caught the woman's eye and found
comfort and reinforcement there. She, too, was smiling, but
gratefully, and she gave him a courteous little nod of thanks.

"I don't like to hear such language used to a lady," he said,
speaking manfully enough, and giving the fat man eyes as steady as
his own. "No gentleman would do it, I'm sure."

"Vot der hell you got to do mit it?" demanded the other ferociously,
while his companion laughed.

The woman held up a hand. "Do not quarrel," she said. "There is
trouble enough already. Besides, they may be here any moment. Is
there anything to get ready?"

"But vot der hell," cried the fat man again. She turned on him.

"Fool! fool! Will you shout and curse all night, till the algemas are
on you?"