Borg talked at the top of his voice, "in order to raise his spirits," as he said, but the party grew more and more silent, one might almost have said uneasy.
Falk paced up and down the room, taciturn, portentous like a thundercloud.
At Borg's order a tremendous supper, a "sexa" was served. The convives took their seats amidst ominous silence. Struve and Borg drank immoderate quantities of brandy; in the face of the latter red spots appeared here and there, and the white of the eyes looked yellow. But Struve resembled a varnished Edam cheese; he was uniformly red and greasy. Beside them Falk and Levi looked like children, eating their last supper in the society of giants.
Borg looked at Levi. "Hand the salmon to the scandal-monger," he commanded, in order to break the monotonous silence.
Levi handed the dish to Struve. The latter pushed his spectacles on to his forehead and spat venom.
"Shame on you, Jew," he foamed, throwing his dinner-napkin in Levi's face.
Borg laid a heavy hand on Struve's bald pate.
"Silence, you blackguard!" he said.
"What dreadful company to be mixed up with! Let me tell you, gentlemen, I'm too old to be treated like a schoolboy," said Struve, tremulously, forgetting his usual bonhomie.
Borg, who had had enough to eat, rose from the table.