s, and divided into two long sleek braids
drawn forward and falling over her shoulders, the ends resting on her lap.

She looked up, as he entered, with the haunting sea-green eyes that
showed larger than ever in contrast to her hollowed cheeks. Something in
her pose, in the arrangement of her hair, reminded Emile vividly of her
first morning in Barcelona, when he had come in early in the morning to
find her dazed with sleep. He remembered also how she had asked him to
repeat his remarks, and how carelessly nonchalant had been her manner.

"You look like a witch sitting crouched up there, Fatalite," he snapped.
"What's the matter? You don't seem very cheerful."

"I don't feel very cheerful," the girl responded. She spoke with grave
deliberation, and without moving a muscle. Emile grunted and sat down.

"There has been another explosion of bombs on the Rambla," he said. "A
market woman killed and two work people injured--I believe one has since
died. Of course a got-up affair of the Government. They hope by doing
this sort of thing often enough to make the populace take vengeance on
us."

"Then the Anarchists didn't do it?"

"My dear Fatalite, we don't blow up harmless people simply _pour passer
le temps_. I've told you that before, and being inside the movement
yourself you ought to know. It is a favourite trick of the officials to
excite public feeling against us. They have been doing it now for the
last three years, letting off bombs in various parts of the city. They
take care always to choose the most frequented places and to kill someone
who doesn't matter, and then all the Republican journals have four
columns of indignation with large head-lines, 'LATEST ANARCHIST OUTRAGE.'
They like to get their exploits well talked about. Everything seems to
be against us now. Sobrenski will have it that there is treachery inside
our circle as well as outside. You know whom he suspects?"

"No."

"Vardri."

"That is my fault," Arithelli said quietly. "Sobrenski has felt like
that since the night Vardri made a scene about my being lowered down from
the window. He just stood up for me because I'm a woman. I'm only a
machine to the rest of you."

She spoke without a touch of resentment. It was purely a statement of
fact.

"Ah, that's just the point. The feminine side of you is exactly what we
don't want. One Felise Rivaz is enough, most of us think. Try and keep
the elfish boy you were when you ar