It was almost as though he were counting them over to himself--and his thoughts ran: "You astonishingly attractive devil.

You have all the pride of my father, the Emperor.

How he would have gloried in you! You are enough to drive any man mad: you shall be a pawn in my game for the winning of my lady and gain happiness for yourself, so in the end, Elinka, if she is able to see from where she has gone, will not say I have been cruel to you." "I asked you to come down--to discuss a matter of great importance: Will you be good enough to be seated, my niece," he said aloud with ceremonious politeness as he drew forward a chair--into which she sank without more ado and there waited, with folded hands, for him to continue.

Her stillness was always as intense as his own, but whereas his had a nervous tension of conscious repression, hers had an unconscious, quiet force.

Her father had been an Englishman, but both uncle and niece at moments made you feel they were silent panthers, ready to spring.
"So--" was all she said.
And Francis Markrute went on: "You have a miserable position--hardly enough to eat at times, one understands.