Charles went over to the stranger who sat by the door: "Give me the bill."
"You don't need our assistance, then?"
"No, thanks."
"So much the better," said the stranger, handing Charles a folded blue paper. Then he paid for his coffee and went.—
—Madame Virginie rose with a little shriek: "Alphonse! Oh, my God! Monsieur Alphonse is ill."
He slipped off his chair; his shoulders went up and his head fell on one side. He remained sitting on the floor, with his back against the chair.
There was a movement among those nearest; the doctor sprang over and knelt beside him. When he looked in Alphonse's face he started a little. He took his hand as if to feel his pulse, and at the same time bent down over the glass which stood on the edge of the table.
With a movement of the arm he gave it a slight push, so that it fell on the floor and was smashed. Then he laid down the dead man's hand and bound a handkerchief round his chin.
Not till then did the others understand what had happened. "Dead? Is he dead, doctor? Monsieur Alphonse dead?"
"Heart disease," answered the doctor.
One came running with water, another with vinegar. Amid laughter and noise, the balls could be heard cannoning on the inner billiard-table.
