“Agent provocateur!” cried many voices. “Pay no attention to her! Go on with the debate!”
An I. W. W.––a thin, mean-faced American––half arose and pointed an unwashed finger at Ilse.
“A Government spy,” he said distinctly. “Keep your eye on her, comrades. There seems to be a bunch of them there–––”
“Sit down and shut up!” said Shotwell, sharply. “Do you want to start a riot?”
“You bet I’ll start something!” retorted the man, showing his teeth like a rat. “What the hell did you come here for–––”
“Silence!” bawled Bromberg, hoarsely, from the platform. “That woman is recognised and known. Pay no attention to her, but listen to me. I tell you that your law is the law of hatred!–––”
Palla attempted to rise. Jim tried to restrain her: she pushed his arm aside, but he managed to retain his grasp on her arm.
“Are you crazy?” he whispered.
“That man lies!” she said excitedly. “Don’t you hear him preaching hatred?”
“Well, it’s not your business–––”