His placidity was so genuine that he was not unduly, fretting himself over the absence of Heyst, or the mysterious manners Schomberg had treated him to.

He was considering these things in his own fairly shrewd way.

Something had happened; and he was loath to go away to investigate, being restrained by a presentiment that somehow enlightenment would come to him there.

A poster of CONCERTS EVERY EVENING, like those on the gate, but in a good state of preservation, hung on the wall fronting him.

He looked at it idly and was struck by the fact--then not so very common--that it was a ladies' orchestra; "Zangiacomo's eastern tour--eighteen performers." The poster stated that they had had the honour of playing their select repertoire before various colonial excellencies, also before pashas, sheiks, chiefs, H.H.
the Sultan of Mascate, etc., etc.
Davidson felt sorry for the eighteen lady-performers.