"I have heard," he said, addressing the speaker in slow, distinct French, "every word in the clear and accurate voice of Madame, and venture to suggest that it is a perilous thing to speak English in this country, unless you wish to be heard, English being now so generally understood, even when not spoken."
"Much obliged," returned Dorris sharply, meaning to pass on; "but it's nothing to me whether people hear what I say or not."
"Pardon me," he replied, barring her progress. "It may be much to you; it is a serious matter in this country to speak slander in public; it may have very grave consequences for you."
"Nonsense; I don't understand French—je ne comprends pas," she muttered hastily and brokenly, looking round as if for protection. Then, perceiving the younger man, "Mr. Paul," she cried piteously, "Mr. Paul."
"That is my name," he admitted, rising and raising his hat, but not approaching.
"Mr. Paul fully agrees with me upon the danger of speaking slanderous things in public," said the Pole coolly, in English.
"It's no slander," she protested; "let me go. We were going to see the review."
"Let us pass on; you have no right to stop people you don't know," shouted the other lady in a shaky voice.
"I happen to know the lady with whose name you were taking such unwarrantable liberties," continued the Pole, keeping his blazing eyes fixed on poor Dorris's terrified face. "She is incapable of any such conduct as you attribute to her. Once more let me warn you that you are in a country in which strange things happen; in which walls have eyes and trees ears; in which people sometimes take the law into their own hands with impunity."
"Mr. Paul," cried Dorris once more, with supplicating hands, "oh, Mr. Paul!"