His bodily vigour, his cool inflexible manner, his courage and his fairness, had secured for him much respect and some adulation in the sphere of his early successes.

He had felt himself revered and admired.
And Chief Inspector Heat, arrested within six paces of the anarchist nick-named the Professor, gave a thought of regret to the world of thieves--sane, without morbid ideals, working by routine, respectful of constituted authorities, free from all taint of hate and despair.
After paying this tribute to what is normal in the constitution of society (for the idea of thieving appeared to his instinct as normal as the idea of property), Chief Inspector Heat felt very angry with himself for having stopped, for having spoken, for having taken that way at all on the ground of it being a short cut from the station to the headquarters.

And he spoke again in his big authoritative voice, which, being moderated, had a threatening character.
"You are not wanted, I tell you," he repeated.
The anarchist did not stir.

An inward laugh of derision uncovered not only his teeth but his gums as well, shook him all over, without the slightest sound.

Chief Inspector Heat was led to add, against his better judgment: "Not yet.