She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. I have not found the secret way into the house, for instance. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. I could tell it was Italian, you see. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. And then they talked of Anarchism and Socialism, and whether the former was the exact opposite of the latter or only a higher form. “I am afraid,” he said gravely, “that your sister has been a little indiscreet.
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