Enough for a man of
his type to find an obstruction in his path. He would need no
authority but his own for removing it. She hated him all the more for
his parade of justice. It had not occurred to her that his speech was
a prelude to anything that concerned Vardri. If anyone was implied she
imagined it was herself. These men were never happy unless they were
suspecting evil of someone. The Anarchist leader found in her
incomprehension merely another sign of feminine stupidity. Her outward
air of indifference was as irritating to him as it had been to the
Hippodrome Manager. Sobrenski's blood had never stirred for any woman,
however charming, and Arithelli's type of looks was repulsive to him.
He loathed her thinness and pallor, her silence and immobility of
expression. He vowed inwardly that she should look less indifferent
before he had finished with her.
"You do not appear to have the least idea of the identity of the man to
whom I am referring," he continued. "Your friend Vardri is not a very
careful person. He is young, and shall we say, a little foolish.
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