That was natural.

And it occurred to me--nay, calm yourself!" "Quick! Quick! "Nay, calm yourself, my dear Messer Blondel," Basterga repeated with outward solicitude and inward amusement.

"Be calm, or you will do yourself an injury; you will indeed! In your state you should be prudent; you should govern yourself--one never knows.

And besides, the thought, to which I refer--I see you recognise what it was----" "Yes! yes! Go on! Go on!" "Proved futile." "Futile ?" "Yes, I am sorry to say it.

Futile." "Futile!" The wretched man's voice rose almost to a scream as he repeated the word.