Impelled by the desire, he leaned forward and opened the
window.
"Let's find the meaning of this," he said. "Is there nobody
to regulate the traffic?" As he spoke he half rose and leaned
out of the window. There was a touch of imperious annoyance
in his manner. Fresh from the realization of power, there was
something irksome in this commonplace check to his desires.
"Isn't it possible to get out of this?" Eve heard him call to
the coachman. Then she heard no more.
He had leaned out of the carriage with the intention of
looking onward towards the cause of the delay; instead,
by that magnetic attraction that undoubtedly exists, he looked
directly in front of him at the group of people waiting on the
little island--at one man who leaned against the lamp-post in
an attitude of apathy--a man with a pallid, unshaven face and
lustreless eyes, who wore a cap drawn low over his forehead.
He looked at this man, and the man saw and returned his
glance. For a space that seemed interminable they held each
other's eyes; then very slowly Loder drew back into the
carriage.
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