"But that's not revolution. It is a sort of justice, isn't it?"
"You think very straight, young lady," said Jim Doyle.
He had a fascinating theory of individualism, too; no man should impose his will
and no community its laws, on the individual. Laws were for slaves. Ethics were
better than laws, to control.
"Although," he added, urbanely, "I daresay it might be difficult to convert Mr.
Anthony Cardew to such a belief."
While Louis Akers saw Lily to her taxicab that night Doyle stood in the hall,
waiting. He was very content with his evening's work.
"Well?" he said, when Akers returned.
"Merry as a marriage bell. I'm to show her the Brunelleschi drawings to-morrow."
Slightly flushed, he smoothed his hair in front of the mirror over the stand.
"She's a nice child," he said. In his eyes was the look of the hunting animal that
scents food.
