"Excuse me, sir," began Dawson, shocked. He was aching to be on the woman's side.
"Vott" demanded the fat man.
"That's hardly the way to speak to a lady," said Dawson gravely.
The tall man burst into a clear laugh, and the fat man glared at Dawson. He flinched somewhat, but caught the woman's eye and found comfort and reinforcement there. She, too, was smiling, but gratefully, and she gave him a courteous little nod of thanks.
"I don't like to hear such language used to a lady," he said, speaking manfully enough, and giving the fat man eyes as steady as his own. "No gentleman would do it, I'm sure."
"Vot der hell you got to do mit it?" demanded the other ferociously, while his companion laughed.
The woman held up a hand. "Do not quarrel," she said. "There is trouble enough already. Besides, they may be here any moment. Is there anything to get ready?"
"But vot der hell," cried the fat man again. She turned on him.
"Fool! fool! Will you shout and curse all night, till the algemas are on you?"
"Yes; an' you put dem on us," the tall man interrupted.