“I hardly know, but everything looked sad and strange; I began to think about the uncertainties of life.”
Domini and De Trevignac were sipping their champagne. Ouardi came behind Androvsky to fill his glass.
“Non! non!” he said, putting his hand over it and shaking his head.
De Trevignac started.
Ouardi looked at Domini and made a distressed grimace, pointing with a brown finger at the glass.
“Oh, Boris! you must drink champagne to-night!” she exclaimed.
“I would rather not,” he answered. “I am not accustomed to it.”
“But to drink our guest’s health after his escape from death!”
Androvsky took his hand from the glass and Ouardi filled it with wine.
Then Domini raised her glass and drank to De Trevignac. Androvsky followed her example, but without geniality, and when he put his lips to the wine he scarcely tasted it. Then he put the glass down and told Ouardi to give him red wine. And during the rest of the evening he drank no more champagne. He also ate very little, much less than usual, for in the desert they both had the appetites of hunters.