She was once more a perfect machine. Even the only thing that
Sobrenski could find to say against her was that her appearance was too
conspicuous for a conspirator and that her hands and feet would betray
her through any disguise.
Emile, though still outwardly as unsympathetic as ever, was not blind
to the change in her looks and manner.
Putting the Cause out of the question, he did not wish "Fatalite" to
get ill. Her company amused and distracted him.
He liked to hear her views on life, and to colour them with his own
cynicism, and he enjoyed teaching her to sing and hearing her argue.
For all her quiet she was curiously magnetic and had a way of making
her absence felt. She was never noisy or exacting and had none of the
pride or vices of her sex, and though she was often depressed she was
never bored, and in consequence bored no one.
They had many traits in common, including fatalism and morbidity, for
the Slav temperament is in a hundred ways akin to that of the Celt.
In spite of his jeering remarks Emile thoroughly appreciated the girl's
pluck, and knew that if she failed it would be purely from physical
reasons.
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