"'Absolutely—perfectly', why such emphasis, Stara?"
"Please don't call me 'Stara'; it annoys me."
"I shall call you 'Stara' from now."
"You will not. Why—why should you?"
"Because——"
"Be quiet, here's someone coming. Oh, it's that poor creature Hayward, why doesn't someone look after him? It's sad to see him."
"Drunken brute! I'll bash him if he comes here. I wish he would, and insult you, I believe I'd kill him if he did."
"You'd do a very cowardly thing, then, which would disgust me more than I can say. It's not the destruction, but the saving of life that appeals to me, Colonel Graeme."
The man, a harmless creature enough save for his one failing, at this moment shambled by, smiled vacantly at the two as he passed, and then, moving behind the wind screen some distance away, perched himself on the rail, where he sat rocking, his figure just visible from where they sat.
"I've pity for that man, and pity only," continued Stara. "Why, where are you going, Colonel Graeme, to see the sports? All right, I'll come too."