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"Mon enfant, I'm neither blind nor a fool. As they say in this country, 'love and a cough cannot be hidden. I was sure about Vardri, but about you; no, one couldn't say. When you came out here you were a sexless creature with a brain. It did not seem likely that you would develop into the ordinary girl with a lover."
This place is bad for both one's French and English, and Emile says that when I try and speak Spanish it sounds like someone sawing wood." Vardri went out still coughing, and came back flushed and excitable, laden with various untidy parcels, from which some of the contents were protruding. Long rolls, the materials for a salad, a pâté, flowers, and an enormous cluster of grapes.
It came across her mind how once when she had said to Vardri, "Let us see to the horses first," he had said half in jest, "If I were a Spaniard I should be jealous. You always think of the animals before everything else."
They pledged each other in the yellow wine of the country, and presently Vardri set about the manufacture of what he inaccurately described as Turkish coffee. That the result of his efforts was half cold and evil-tasting mattered not to either of them. Arithelli's red hair was crowned with vine leaves that he had stripped from the grape-cluster and twisted into a Bacchante wreath.
If she did Sobrenski's bidding she would be not only a murderess, but the murderess of the being she loved most in the world. Vardri, who was so different from all the other men; Vardri, who could never bear anything to be hurt, or even to be made uncomfortable. She knew that it was perfectly useless for both of them to attempt to escape.
Don't talk any more for a minute, dear, then just say au revoir to me and go as quickly as you can. I want to be quiet. It's good to be loved. How gentle you are! Emile was always so rough when he touched me." Vardri hung over her, caressing her with infinite tenderness.
In answer to Sobrenski's gesture, she moved towards the window, which another of the conspirators was cautiously opening. Vardri pushed himself forward into the group. "She can't go down there," he said hoarsely, "It's not safe look at the height!" "She'll go down well enough if she holds onto the rope." "The rope may break or fray through on the sill." "She takes her chance like the rest of us."
If she accused him of having taken it he would simply deny the charge, and to seem anxious would be further evidence that the letter contained something that would compromise either Vardri or herself. In any case it appeared that the mischief was done. To expect either justice or mercy from her enemy was out of the question.
Here was a complication that he had not foreseen. For the first time in his life his wit and cunning had been at fault. He must have been mad not to have kept a sharper lookout on Vardri, but he had reckoned he was secure with Arithelli as decoy. Could it be possible that she had been mad enough to warn Vardri? If so, then why was she here herself?
I felt that Sobrenski intended to prevent our talking together." Arithelli snatched eagerly at his words. They had given her the clue she wanted. "Yes, that's it. It's dangerous for me if we are seen often together. I've done something so mad and foolish, Vardri, you must help me to put it right, you can.
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