"Vardri? What has he done?"
The note of surprise in her voice was well assumed and she could
control her face, but her hands betrayed her. Sobrenski had seen the
blue veins stand out and the knuckles whiten unnaturally with the
pressure on the black fan she carried to shield her eyes in the street.
"Done?" he echoed contemptuously. "Nothing so far. He has only talked
and written. It is to provide against his doing anything important
that the Committee have decided upon his removal. There was a meeting
held last night and the voting was unanimous. Vardri has been
condemned as a traitor to his vows, and a danger to everyone connected
with our work."
"Condemned without a hearing!" the girl flamed out. "_Mon Dieu_! Your
justice! What has he done?"
"Have you a right to question the judgment of the Committee?" The
voice was like a scourge falling on bare flesh. Arithelli drew her
shoulders together involuntarily.
"No!" she answered.
"Yet you do it! These womanly inconsistencies are a little fatiguing."
Sobrenski caressed his beard with a narrow, bloodless hand, on the
middle finger of which was a curious ring of twisted gold wire.
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