But wait--let me look; there may be breath in him yet." Cigarette laughed, offended and scornful, as with the offense and scorn of one whose first science was impeached.
"Look and welcome; but if you find any life in that Arab, make a laugh of it before all the army to-morrow." She was at her fiercest.

A thousand new emotions had been roused in her that night, bringing pain with them, that she bitterly resented; and, moreover, this child of the Army of Africa caught fire at the flame of battle with instant contagion, and had seen slaughter around her from her first infancy.
Cecil, disregarding her protest, stooped and raised the fallen Bedouin.
He saw at a glance that she was right; the lean, dark, lustful face was set in the rigidity of death; the bullet had passed straight through the temples.
"Did you never see a dead man before ?" demanded Cigarette impatiently, as he lingered--even in this moment he had more thought of this Arab than he had of her! He laid the Arab's body gently down, and looked at her with a glance that, rightly or wrongly, she thought had a rebuke in it.
"Very many.

But--it is never a pleasant sight.

And they were in drink; they did not know what they did." "Pardieu! What divine pity! Good powder and ball were sore wasted, it seems; you would have preferred to lie there yourself, it appears.

I beg your pardon for interfering with the preference." Her eyes were flashing, her lips very scornful and wrathful.