Anita's first glance at Broussard showed her that he was thin and sallow, and that his clothes hung loosely upon him, and that, in spite of his smile and playful words, his mind was not at ease.
Neroda, standing near, saw the glow in the eyes of Anita and Broussard, and as they had evidently forgotten his existence, he slipped, without a word, out of the room.

The next moment Colonel Fortescue walked in.
All at once, Anita and Broussard assumed strictly conventional attitudes; poetry became prose, music became silence.

Broussard hastened to explain his presence, after exchanging greetings with Colonel Fortescue.
"I came on private business, sir," he said, "very important.

Not finding you at the headquarters building, I ventured to come to your house, as I wished to see you immediately." "Will you come into my office ?" said the Colonel, in a business-like voice, which seemed to reduce Anita to the age of the After-Clap, and classify Broussard with the poker that stood by the fireplace.
The two men crossed the hall and entered the private office and sat down.
Then Colonel Fortescue noticed that Broussard looked haggard and worn, and his dark skin had turned darker.

His face and manner assumed a gravity which made Colonel Fortescue feel that Broussard's errand was not one of pleasure.
"I am on sick leave," said Broussard.