There was neither passion nor resentment in the low voice. "What shall
I do?" she went on, after waiting for Emile to speak.
"Put up with it, or better still go in for the Cause seriously."
"Don't you call this serious? Blood and brutalities and slave-driving?
You talked about l'entresol de l'enfer, but I'm beginning to think
I've stepped over the threshold."
"Ce n'est que le premier pas qui coute!"
Arithelli bit her lips. "I don't feel in the mood for arguing now. I wish you would leave me alone."
"On condition that you won't go in for any more hysterics, I'll go and settle with the Manager that you don't have to appear to-night. It's lucky there happens to be a new turn with those trapeze people. The audience won't miss you. Has Sobrenski given you anything to do to-day?"
"I don't know. I can't remember. Oh, yes, I was to go to the Baroni's at two o'clock."
"I'll see to that. A cipher message?"
"Yes. It's fastened under my hair." She dragged herself into a sitting position and extracted the little wad of paper with shaking hands. Emile took it.
"Good! I shall be back at five o'clock. You can get up later and come round to my rooms. Do you understand?"