Again his wandering stare went round the table, with an expression incredibly incongruous with the words.

It was as though he had borrowed those eyes from some idiot for the purpose of that visit.

He still held Dona Rita's hand, and, now and then, patted it.
"It's discouraging," he cooed.

"And I believe not one of you here is a Frenchman.

I don't know what you are all about.