They were gruff, burly fellows, all of them.

For a few minutes they stormed and growled about their miserable luck in being caught in the downpour, ordering schnapps and brandy in large and instant quantities.

At last the Englishman, a heavy, sour-faced man, turned his gaze in the direction of the lovers, who sat quite close together in the dark corner.

His gaze developed into a stare, then a look of triumph.

A moment later he was pointing out the couple to his companions, all three peering at them with excited eyes.
Brock's face went red under the rude stare; he was on the point of resenting it when the Englishman stepped forward.