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"Do you know Fialin?"
I answered,--
"
"
"
"
"
"
No."
Have you seen him?
No."
Do you wish to see him?"
No."
Look at him."
I looked at him.
This man in truth was passing before us. It was he who preceded the
group of officers. He came out of the Bank. Had he been there to effect
a new forced loan? The people who were at the doors looked at him with
curiosity, and without anger. His entire bearing was insolent. He turned
from time to time to say a word to one of his followers. This little
cavalcade "pawed the ground" in the mist and in the mud. Fialin had the
arrogant air of a man who caracoles before a crime. He gazed at the
passers-by with a haughty look. His horse was very handsome, and, poor
beast, seemed very proud. Fialin was smiling. He had in his hand the
whip that his face deserved.
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