L'Estrange coughed here three or four times, to apprise his neighbors that they were within earshot of others.
“Listen to that cough,” cried the first speaker. “That was palpably feigned. It was meant to say, 'Don't talk so loud.'”
“I always grow more indiscreet under such provocation,” said the other, whose words were slightly tinged with a foreign accent.
A merry laugh burst from Julia at this speech, which the others joined in by very impulse.
“I suspect,” said the first speaker, “we might as well have occupied the same room, seeing in what close proximity we stand to each other.”
“I think it would be as well to go to your room, Julia,” said George, in a low voice. “It is getting late, besides.”
“I believe you are right, George. I will say good-night.”
The last words appeared to have caught the ears of the strangers, who exclaimed together, “Good-night, goodnight;” and he with the foreign accent began to hum, in a very sweet tenor voice, “Buona sera, buona notte, buona sera;” which Julia would fain have listened to, but George hurried her away, and closed the door.
“There is the end of that episode,” said the foreign voice. “Le mari jaloux has had enough of us. Your women in England are taught never to play with fire.”
“I might reply that yours are all pyrotechnists,” said the other, with a laugh.