All his movements--the way he grasped the mug, the act of drinking, the way he set the heavy glass down and folded his arms--had a firmness, an assured precision which made the big and muscular Ossipon, leaning forward with staring eyes and protruding lips, look the picture of eager indecision.
"An hour," he said.

"Then it may be you haven't heard yet the news I've heard just now--in the street.

Have you ?" The little man shook his head negatively the least bit.

But as he gave no indication of curiosity Ossipon ventured to add that he had heard it just outside the place.

A newspaper boy had yelled the thing under his very nose, and not being prepared for anything of that sort, he was very much startled and upset.