Desprez was once more the colour of ashes; his lip worked and trembled; a sort of bestial greed possessed him.
'This is childish,' he said.

'We lose precious time.

Back to the inn, harness the trap, and bring it to yon bank.

Run for your life, and remember--not one whisper.

I stay here to watch.' Jean-Marie did as he was bid, though not without surprise.