The noise, smoke, laughter, shouting, rattle of dishes, the
penetrating odor of burnt paper and French tobacco, all proclaimed the
place a Latin Quarter restaurant. The English and Americans ate like
civilized beings and howled like barbarians. The Germans, when they
had napkins, tucked them under their chins. The Frenchmen -- well!
they often agreed with the hated Teuton in at least one thing; that
knives were made to eat with. But which of the four nationalities
exceeded the others in turbulence and bad language would be hard to
say.

Clifford was eating his chop and staring at the blonde adjunct of a
dapper little Frenchman.

"Clifford," said Carleton, "stop that."

"I'm mesmerizing her," said Clifford. "It's a case of hypnotism."

The girl, who had been staring back at Clifford, suddenly shrugged her
shoulders, and turning to her companion, said aloud:

"How like a monkey, that foreigner!"

Clifford withdrew his eyes in a hurry, amid a roar of laughter from
the others. He was glad when Braith's entrance caused a diversion.

"Hullo, Don Juan! I see you, Lothario! Drinking again?"

Braith took it all as a matter of course, but this time failed to
return as good as they gave. He took a seat beside Gethryn and said in
a low tone: