In the midst of the laughter that followed the tale, Barry rose to his feet, his face white and his eyes aflame, and in a voice vibrating with passion, said: "May I be excused, sir ?" "Why, certainly," said the colonel pleasantly, adding after a moment's hesitation, "is there anything wrong, Dunbar?
Are you ill ?" "No, sir." Barry's voice had the resonant quality of a cello string.
"I mean, yes, sir," he corrected.

"I am ill.

The atmosphere surrounding such a tale is nauseating to me." In the horrified silence that followed his remark, he walked out from the room.

Upon his ears, as he stood in the ante-room, trembling with the violence of his passion, a burst of laughter fell.

A sudden wrath like a hot flame swept his body.