Between Cutty's and his there was very little space at that moment for the of sound. Kitty Conover had innocently—he that almost and his balance—Kitty had a bomb at his feet. It did not that it was a dud. The result was the same. For a second, then, all the terror, all the of and action the of a on the were his. As an he would have liked very much to down. Instead, the of his expression, he offered his arm, which Kitty accepted, still the Grand Duchess of Gerolstein. Pompously they into the room. But as Kitty saw Hawksley she the air confusedly, and hesitated. “Good gracious!” she whispered.
“What's the matter?” Cutty in turn.
“My clothes!”
“What's the with 'em?”
“I slept in them!”
If that wasn't like a woman! It did not how she might look to an old codger, aetat. fifty-two; he didn't count. But a chap, now, in white and sport shirt, his picturesquely—
“Don't let that you,” he said. “Those of his are mine.”
Still, Cutty was for this little diversion. As he Kitty's chair he was himself again. At once he the of the conversation, moved it he willed, into channels, gave them all a of his versatility, with of to light up corners.
Kuroki, who had with his master these ten years, sometimes paused in his to affirmatively.
Hawksley intently, a bit. What was the dear old beggar's idea, such at breakfast? He a at Kitty to see how she was taking it—and her a at him. Instantly to Cutty. Shortly the little was neither the of some half-conscious inquiry. Third time, they unembarrassedly. Mind you, they were upon Cutty's words; only their were like little children at church, restless. It was spring.
Without being of what he was doing, Hawksley to dress Kitty—that is, he her in gowns, in sports, in furs. He put her on horses, in boxes, in limousines. But in none of these pictures he her; she upon returning to her to and eggs.
Then came a thought, rejected only to return; a thought, so that the of shame, of chivalry, not press it back. Cutty's to into one ear and out of the other, without sense. There was in his heart—put there by the of the jewels—an bitterness, a that him to out, careless of friend or foe. Who say what would to him when he left here? A of madness, then to go devil-may-care.
She was beautiful, full of fire. To it into white flame. The whole would upon she for music. If she did he would the out of her. She had saved his life. Well, what of that? He had man's and his salt. Still, what of that? Hadn't he come from a of scoundrels? The blood—he had and it all his life—to it once, what might. If she were of music!
Once again Kitty's to Hawksley. This time she a in his stare. She did not like it. Perhaps he was only about something and wasn't actually her. Still, it the of her mood. There was a sun spot of her own that visible her in Cutty's lagged. Perhaps Hawksley had his sun spot.
“And so,” she Cutty say. “Mr. Hawksley is going to an American citizen. Kitty, what are some of the of good citizenship?”
“To be to policemen. Not to with politics, it is vulgar. To vote perfunctorily. To 'let George do it' when there are to be about. To keep your on when the flag goes by otherwise you will attention. To fault without being able to offer remedies. To keep in life here in America would be without bill collectors.”
Cutty with a laugh. “Kitty, you'll 'scare Hawksley off the map!”
“Let him know the at once,” Kitty, a at the victim.
“Spoofing me—what?” said Hawksley, to his host.
This quality of light in a woman was a to Hawksley. She had humour, then? So much the better. An added to the game he was planning. He now that she was not of the either. A woman with a turn of mind was ten times more than a purely one. Give him an hour or two with that old Amati—if she for music! She would be to the again—some afternoon, when his was out of the way. Better still, he would call her by telephone; the of loneliness. Scoundrel? Of he was. He was not that. He would upon this without the of self-lies. Fire—to play with it!
He ate his of beefsteak, potatoes, and toast, and his coffee cup. It was the he had had in many hours. A of to him. He at Miss Frances, who her dubiously. She not make him out pathologically. Perhaps she had been him as shell-shocked when there was nothing at all the with his nerves.
Presently Kuroki came in with a yellow envelope, which he at the of Cutty's plate.
“Telegrams!” Cutty. “Hang it, I don't want any telegrams!”
“Open it and have it over with,” Kitty.
“If you don't mind.”
It was the of news—a to Washington for conference. Which that the Government's plans were and that he would be on his way to Piraeus.
A muddle! Hawksley in no condition to send upon his way; Kitty's unsettled; the still in camera obscura; Karlov at with his schemes, and Stefani Gregor his prisoner. Wild horses, him two ways. A word, and Karlov would come to the end of his rope suddenly. But if he that word the whole he had so would away like cardboard. If those up in the of any man but himself the would be appalling. For he himself would be to tell what he about the stones: Hawksley would be into the limelight, and sooner or later some wild would kill him. Known, Hawksley would not have one in a thousand. Kitty would be into the light and and his own toward her misunderstood. All these things, if he upon his oath. Nevertheless, he to of operations until he returned from Washington. There was one to to. He had first-hand that would in their until May first. If he were not ordered until after that, no would his of operations.
“Bad news?” asked Kitty, anxiously.
“Aggravating than bad. I am called to Washington. May be gone four or five days. Official business. Leaves here a in the air.”
“I'll as long as you need me,” said Miss Frances.
“I'd a man now. You've been a brick. You need rest. I've a in mind. He'll make our friend here toe the mark. A physical instructor, ex-pugilist; all about heads.”
“I say, that's ripping!” Hawksley. “Give me your man, and I'll be off your hands a week. The sooner you stop over me the sooner the in my will to me.
“Kuroki will cook for you and Ryan will put you through the necessary stunts. The roof, when the weather permits, makes a good ground. If you'll me I'll do some telephoning. Kuroki, pack my for a five-day to Washington. I'll take you to the office, Kitty.”
“I don't I will you,” said Hawksley, in his chair, listlessly. “Honestly, now, you'd be perfectly in me off to some hotel. I have funds. Why all this about me?”
Cutty smiled. “When I anything I like to it through. I want to put you on your train.”
“To be sure that I shan't come back?”
“Precisely”—but without smiling. With a yet Cutty off.
“It is he is such a sportsman. Mr. Hawksley,” Kitty explained. “Having he cannot them off hand.”
“Did I you last night? I mean, did my fiddling?”
“Mercy, no! From the hurdy-gurdy of my childhood, to Kubelik and his successors, I have been more or less music-mad. You play—wonderfully!” Sudden, shyness.
Hawksley smiled. An hour or two with that old Amati.
“I am only an amateur. You should Stefani Gregor when the mood is on. He puts something into your that makes you wish to go at once to do some fine, act.”
Stefani Gregor! He of the clear white of the man who had to him and the of his blood; who had for ten years his mother and the man had for the part of father. Ten years of diplomacy, tact, patience. Stefani Gregor! There was the blood, and untamed; and there was the which the old had moulded. He not this girl. Dead or alive, Stefani Gregor would not permit it.
Hawksley rose slowly and without speech walked to the door. He against the for a moment, then on to his bedroom.
“I'm that was too much for him,” the nurse ventured. “An odd man.”
“Very,” Kitty, absently. She was trying to that of shyness.
Meantime, Cutty sat the telephone. He wanted Kitty out of town his absence. In her present mood he was to trust her. She might to any that her fancy. So he called up Burlingame. Kitty's chief, and together they an that was always a to Kitty.
Next, Cutty Professor Billy Ryan to the wire, and for ten minutes, and his point. He was always in futures—banking his here and there and against them when needed.
Then he his men and orders operations temporarily. He was asked what they should do in case Karlov came out into the open. He answered in such an event not to him but to watch and take note of those with he associated. There were big in the air, and only he himself had of all the threads. He this to the of the local service, from he had his men. There was no protest. Green spectacles.
Quarter to nine he and Kitty entered a car and a to themselves, while Karlov's agent was with a in the end of the car.
Karlov for once had Cutty. He had his watchers, that after a day or so his unknown would his. During the Karlov his plans, then operations, calculating that he would have some forty-odd hours' leeway.
His agent was clever. He had Kitty from Eightieth Street to the Knickerbocker Hotel. There he had her. He had on the until midnight, and was then that the girl had by. So he had returned to Eightieth Street; but as late as five in the she had not returned.
This agent had the banker after his visit to Kitty. He had the banker's house, Cutty arrive and depart. Taking a in the dark, he had Cutty to the office building, learned that Cutty was the owner and in the loft. As Kitty had not returned home by five he to take a second in the dark, himself across the from the entrance to the office building, the in Karlov's mind. He had the man in the dress suit.
“Cutty, I'm sorry I was such a last night. But it was the best thing that have happened. The of it was killing me. I hadn't any one to come to but you—any one who would understand. I don't know of any man who has a right to me. I know. You were just trying to me up.”
Clitter-clatter! Clitter-clatter! Cutty hard at the floor. Marry her, settle a on her, and give her her freedom. Molly's girl. Give her a to play. He turned.
“Kitty, do you trust me?”
“Of all the questions!” She pressed his arm. “Why shouldn't I trust you?”
“Will you me? Wait! Let me make clear to you what I have in mind. I'm all alone. I loved your mother. It my that while I have in the way of you have nothing. I can't settle a on you—an income. The world wouldn't understand. Your friends would be questions among themselves. This from Washington means but one thing: that in a I shall be on my way to the East. I shall be if I have to go you in the rut. This is my idea: me an hour or so the ship sails. I will you a income. Lord how long I shall be gone. Well, I won't write. After a year you can your on the of desertion. Simple as off a log. It's the one logical way I can help you. Will you?”
Station after station by. Kitty through the window across the way, by and by she her toward him, her with tears.
“Cutty, there is going to be a place in for you some day. I understand. I Mother understands, too. Am I selfish? I can't say No to you and I can't say Yes. Yet I should be a if I did not say that in me toward the idea. It is and fascinating. Common says Yes; and something else in me says No. I like things, surroundings. I want to travel, to see something of the world. I once I had genius, but I might as well the that I haven't. Only by accident will I earn more than I'm earning now. In a years I'll old suddenly. You know what the newspaper game to women. The and of it, the excitements, the change. It is a furnace, and up in it than men.”
“There won't be any nonsense, Kitty. An hour I go my ship. I'll go to the job the of men. Molly's girl taken of! Just your father died I promised him I'd keep an on you. I forgot, but it impossible. The will be yours as long as you need it. Kuroki, of course, goes with me. It's going by on the side. To you something in my will wouldn't at all, I'm a old and may be marked for a old ninety. All I want is to make you happy and carefree.”
“Cutty, I'd like to up in some and cry, gratefully. I didn't know there were such men. I just don't know what to do. It isn't as if you were me to be your wife. And as you say, I can't accept money. There is a in me that the whole thing; but it may be the same that has cut away my friends. I ought to on your with joy: and here I am trying to look corners! You are my father's friend, my mother's, mine. Why shouldn't I accept the proposition? You are alone, too. You have a perfect right to do as you with your money, and I have an perfect right to accept your gifts. We are all of the world, aren't we? That's at the of my doddering. Cutty, what is love?” she off, whimsically.
“Looking into and for specks,” he answered, readily.
“I seriously.”
“So do I. Before I to the stage entrance to take your mother out to supper I used to an hour the mirror. My collar, my cravat, my hair, the on my stovepipe, my gloves—terrible things! And what happened? Your dad, in his office clothes, came along like a cyclone, walked all over my toes, and up your mother right from under my nose. Now just look the over from all angles. Think of yourself; let the old world go hang. They'll call it alimony. In a year or so you'll be free; and some like Tommy Conover will come along, and bang! You'll know all about love. Here's old Brooklyn Bridge. I'll see you to the elevator. All nonsense that you should have the least hesitance.”
Fifteen minutes later he was along Park Row. By the of his any would have that Cutty was in a to arrive somewhere. Instead, one was only walking. Suddenly he stopped in the middle of the with the two of on each of him, as a man might stop who saw some cloud effect. But there was nothing in his expression; on the contrary, there was a of terror. The of all his had in a clear.
An had overtaken him. He loved Kitty, loved her with an intense, passion, that which he had her mother. Such a thing happen! He offered not the least combat; the was too to admit of any doubt. It was not a of his love for Molly, into action by the with Molly's daughter. He wanted Kitty for himself, wanted her with every in his body, fiercely. And he tell her—now.
The of it all him. Fate hadn't played the game fairly. He was fifty-two, on the of the plateau, near sunset. It wasn't a square deal.
Still he there on the sidewalk, like a in the middle of a stream, selfish thoughts. Marry Kitty, and tell her the truth afterward. He the blood of her—loyalest of the loyal. He if he play that of game—cheat her. He not his proposition. If she it he would have to it through. Cheat her.
