Nachmann, the only one who had retained his self-possession, was master of the situation.
"Now, what's that supposed to be, may I ask?"
"Oh, you can see, Mr. Nachmann. I'm sure it's plain enough."
"Well, now, honestly, my dear lady, I should say that Diana there is the very image of your charming self, and the terrified animal in the corner looks remarkably like our host. I do hope you'll be careful with that spear!"
Mrs. Rantzau was plainly offended, and gave him a sharp glance of reproof from her dark eyes.
"Ah, now you're angry, I can see. But really it was quite innocently meant."
Mrs. Rantzau rose and left the room hastily. There was an awkward pause, until Thor Smith took up the cards and began to shuffle.
"Water isn't hot," muttered Old Nick, clasping both hands about the jug.
"Only wait a little, old boy, and you'll find it hot enough, or I'm much mistaken. Ah, well, such is life without a wife.... Here, I say, where's your head to-night, Nickelsen. Bless my soul, if you haven't given them the game!"
Old Nick complained of headache that evening, and the party broke up earlier than usual. So early, indeed, that Thor Smith had scarcely finished his first glass, or the first cataract, as he called it, whereas ordinarily the third would be reached and passed in the course of the evening's play.