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Updated: June 12, 2025
Then let it be a warning in the future you will be suspected and watched. There is no need for me to dilate upon the punishment for treachery, all that you knew when you joined us. You may consider yourself lucky to have escaped so easily to-night. Through the few minutes' delay you have caused, Poleski may have been arrested." Vardri shrugged and sat down.
He works us all, but does he ever spare himself? Look at Vardri? Rich, well-born, starving at the Hippodrome on a few pesetas a week. I thought you had better stuff in you. Are you going to turn out English milk-and-water? You're not English, you say? No, I suppose you're not, or you wouldn't talk about 'dirty Gentiles. If you think Anarchy is all 'Le Rêve' you'll soon find yourself mistaken.
She could not escape now at all events, even if she suddenly changed her mind. He would give them both five minutes, and then if Vardri did not appear ! He began to walk up and down outside, like some prowling animal awaiting its prey. At regular intervals his shadow crossed and recrossed the patch of light from the open door.
In front of it was a single large tree, but most of the ground close by bore nothing higher than dwarf shrubs and long grass. When the cavalcade drew up and dismounted, Vardri was discovered to be missing. He had been late in starting, lagged behind the others and dropped out of sight before they were scarcely clear of the town.
Vardri was tramping up and down the room with the noiseless agility of an animal, his fingers mechanically at work at a cigarette. "She must have a doctor too. Isn't there an English doctor here?" "Probably. Do you propose to pay him too?" The dryly sarcastic voice, the practical question brought Vardri down from the clouds to the hard facts of life. Illnesses and doctors were expensive things.
"If Emile heard me talking like this he would be so angry." "He talked like this once," Vardri replied. "Poleski was young too not so very long ago, and he loved someone."
Vardri smiled scornfully, and slid down to the floor, his head resting against her knee. "Je suis bien content! What cool hands you have, and how still you keep. No other woman in the world was ever so restful. You love to be quiet, don't you? I know you better to-day than I ever did. You were always in the wrong atmosphere at the Hippodrome."
Both were young, reckless and without money beyond what they earned, though, whereas Arithelli had been more or less tricked into her present position, Vardri had been infatuated with the Cause from the time he was old enough to take an interest in anything.
She was quite unconscious of anyone's presence, and moaned softly in a strangled fashion. The two men stood without speaking, and watched the writhing, restless figure. Vardri turned away first with a smothered exclamation. Would he always be obliged to see her tortured in some way or another? The Fates were sending him more than any man could bear to look upon.
She had not been out yet, but Michael Furness had declared her to be practically recovered. One day Vardri hoped to take her along the sea-front towards the old quarter of the town, where the fishermen and sailors lived, and where she could sit on the stone parapet and look across the harbour, and let the sea-air blow strength and vitality into her.
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