The luncheon-gong had already sounded twice; the babus were squatting in the back-verandah, pounding everybody's spices. But the people around the card-table seemed to hear nothing. Only the whispering voices became louder and shriller, so that Léonie and Theo, as well as Addie and Doddie, pricked up their ears. A dispute seemed suddenly to break out between Roger and the regent, notwithstanding Mrs. de Luce's attempts to hush it. They spoke Javanese, but they let all courtesy go to the winds. Like two coolies, they abused each other for cheats, constantly interrupted by the soothing efforts of old Mrs. de Luce, supported by her daughters and daughters-in-law. But the chairs were roughly thrust back; a glass was broken. Roger seemed to dash his cards down in anger. All the women in the inner room took part in the soothing process, their voices raised, or muffled, or whispering, with little outcries, little shrieks of apology and indignation. The servants, innumerable, were listening in every corner of the house. Then the dispute abated, but long, explanatory arguments still continued between the regent and Roger; the women tried to hush them down--"Ssh!... Ssh!"--embarrassed because of the resident's wife, looking out to see where she might be. And at last all was quiet and they sat down in silence, hoping that not too much of the dispute had reached her ears. Until at length, very late--it was almost three o'clock--old Mrs. de Luce, with the gambling-passion still blazing in her dim eyes, summoning all her distinction and her princely prestige, went to the verandah and, as though nothing had happened, asked Mrs. van Oudijck if she would not come in to lunch. CHAPTER FIFTEEN