He began to swear, and though he could have sworn with equal fluency and infelicity in French, German, or Italian, in the depth of his genuine emotion he returned to the tongue of his boyhood, and swore in English.

When he came out of the shrubs, adorned on one side of his face and both hands with neat little beads of blood, he found that Claire had risen from her seat, and was looking shocked, surprised, and worst of all, disgusted.

He did not mend matters much by mixing his apologies with threats of vengeance on Tinker; but his temper, once out of control, was not easily curbed.

He made a most unfortunate impression on her; the beads of blood scarcely excited her pity at all.
Meanwhile Tinker had taken advantage of his pursuer's meeting with the cactus to leave the terrace swiftly.

He went back to the Hotel des Princes, and took out Blazer for a walk, and as he walked, his seraph-like face glowed with the pleasantest complacency.