“What do you mean by 'enough'?”
“I mean, for one thing, we do not understand the woman's mental and moral condition sufficiently to make a study of her. You say it is jealousy, and at the same time the use of chloral. That would have to be understood more clearly. Then, one would like something to—”
“Go on,” said my friend. “To—”
“Happen,” said I, lighting a second cigar.
Just then a couple of boys ran across the square. One of them stumbled over my feet, picked himself up quickly and ran on again. Two or three people now came, all running. De Kock jumped up.
“Something is happening,” he said, “and with a vengeance too I fancy. Hark!”
The people now came fast and furious through the square, increasing in numbers every moment, but through the bustle and hurry and clatter of tongues, we could hear a woman's voice screaming in evident distress. Mingled with it was another sound which may have mystified the general crowd, but which De Kock and I could easily place.
“It is the parrot!” I exclaimed, as we started to run.
“You have your wish, mon cher, is it not so? But take it not so fast; we will be there in time. Ciel! What a row!”
The steps leading up to the restaurant were thronged with people, including two or three policemen. The dining-room was ablaze with light, and still full of visitors, most of whom, however, were moving about in a state of agitation. The upper windows were also lighted and wide open. The screaming suddenly ceased, but not the parrot.