A passionate fear lest she might ever knew of these things was born in his heart at that moment, never altogether to leave him.
The sound of a footstep close at hand made them both turn their heads.
Along the winding path came Da Souza, with an ugly smirk upon his white face, smoking a cigar whose odour seemed to poison the air.

Trent turned upon him with a look of thunder.
"What do you want here, Da Souza ?" he asked fiercely.
Da Souza held up the palms of his hands.
"I was strolling about," he said, "and I saw you through the trees.

I did not know that you were so pleasantly engaged," he added, with a wave of his hat to the girl, "or I would not have intruded." Trent kicked open the little iron gate which led into the garden beyond.
"Well, get out, and don't come here again," he said shortly.

"There's plenty of room for you to wander about and poison the air with those abominable cigars of yours without coming here." Da Souza replaced his hat upon his head.

"The cigars, my friend, are excellent.