Let them, then, account to us for the Gray Mahatma's life!" I glanced sideways at the Gray Mahatma.

He seemed perfectly indifferent.
He was not even interested in the prospect of reprieve.

I think his thoughts were miles away, although his eyes stared straight ahead at Yasmini.

But he was interested in something, and I received the impression that he was waiting for that something to happen.

His attitude was almost that of a telegraphist listening for sounds that have a meaning for him, but none for the common herd.