The appearance of both was sufficiently arresting. Arithelli drove as
she rode, recklessly, and yet with science. Her thin wrists and long
girlish arms were capable of controlling the most fiery animal.
She had made Emile her banker, and always handed over to him her weekly
salary, some of which went to the expenses of the Cause as well as a
certain portion in fines, for she had no idea of time and was never
ready for anything.
Nearly every night before she was half-way into her habit the call-boy
came screaming down the passage, calling with the free-and-easy manners
prevalent behind the scenes:
"Hurry up, Arithelli, or there'll be a row!"
The question of a disguise for her was discussed at one of the meetings
of the Brotherhood, and it was decided that she should appear as a boy.
Her height would be an advantage, and her long hands and feet would
also help the illusion in a country where every woman possesses small,
plump and highly arched extremities. Besides, when they had to ride
out to places at night, she would be less noticeable.
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