He had bribed one of the "strappers" to finish his work, and slipped
out, only arriving a few minutes before her.
He had risked dismissal, but that was no great matter.
The Cause came first, and he feared danger for Arithelli, knowing that
if there was anything specially risky to be done she would be the one
chosen.
Sobrenski was always harder on her than on the others.
He watched her with the hungry, faithful eyes of an animal, and got up
from his seat with instinctive courtesy. Like all the rest he wore the
Anarchist badge, a red tie, and the hot, vivid colour showed up the
lines of ill-health and suffering about his eyes and mouth.
In spite of his disreputable clothes and wild hair, there still
remained in him the indefinable signs of breeding, in the thin, shapely
hands that rested on his knee, and in the modulations of his boyish and
eager voice.
None of the others took the least notice of the girl's entrance.
Nearly all of them were as well-born as the young Austrian, but to them
she was simply a comrade, a fellow, worker, not a woman.
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