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I say； what's that you have in your hand？〃
〃Good gracious！〃 Kitty extended the wallet。 〃It is yours； isn't it？〃
〃Yes。 I wanted you to bring it to me the way you have。 If I hadn't
come back … out of that … it was to be yours。〃
〃Mine？〃 … dumfounded。 〃But … … 〃
〃Why not？ Gregor gone； there wasn't a soul in the world。 I was
hungry； and you gave me food。 I wanted that to pay you。 I'll wager
you've never looked into it。〃
〃I had no right to。〃
〃See！〃 He opened the wallet and spread the contents on the
counterpane。 〃I wasn't so stony as you thought。 What？ Cash and
unregistered bonds。 They would have been yours absolutely。〃
〃But I don't … I can't quite；〃 Kitty stammered … 〃but I couldn't
have kept them！〃
〃Positively yes。 You would have shown them to that ripping guardian
of yours； and he would have made you see。〃
〃Indeed； yes！ He would have been scared to death。 You poor man；
can't you see？ Circumstantial evidence that I had killed you！〃
〃Good Lord！ And you're right； too！ So it goes。 You can't do
anything you want to do。 The good Samaritan is never requited； and
I wanted to break the rule。 Lord； what a bally mix…up I'd have
tumbled you in！ I forgot that you were you； that you would have
gone straight to the authorities。 Of course I knew if I pulled
through and you found the wallet you would bring it to me。〃
Kitty no longer had a foot on earth。 She floated。 Her brain
floated； too； because she could not make it think coherently for
her。 A fortune … for a dish of bacon and eggs！ The magnificence；
the utter prodigality of such generosity！ For a dish of bacon and
eggs and a bottle of milk！ Had she left home？ Hadn't she fallen
asleep； the victim of another nightmare？ A corner of the atmosphere
cleared a little。 A desire took form； she wanted the nurse to
come back and stabilize things。 In a wavering blur she saw the
odd young man restore the money and bonds and other documents to
the wallet。
〃I want you to give this to your guardian when he comes in。 I want
him to understand。 I say； you know； I'm going to love that old
thoroughbred！ He's fine。 Fancy his carrying me on his shoulders
and eventually bringing me up here among the clouds！ Americans。。。。
Are you all like that？ And you！〃
Kitty's brain began to make preparations to alight； as it were。
Cutty。 That gave her a touch of earth。 She heard herself say
faintly： 〃And what about me？〃
〃You were brave and kind。 To help an unknown； friendless beggar
like that； when you should have turned him over to the police！
Makes me feel a bit stuffy。 They left me for dead。 I wonder … 〃
〃What？〃
〃If … it wouldn't have been just as well！〃
〃You mustn't talk like that！ You just mustn't！ You're with friends；
real friends； who want to help you all they can。〃 And then with a
little flash of forced humour； because of the recurrent tightening
in her throat … 〃Who could be friendless； with all that money？〃
Instantly she felt like biting her tongue。 He would know nothing
of the sad American habit of trying to be funny to keep a wobbly
situation on its legs。 He would interpret it as heartlessness。 〃I
didn't mean that！〃 With the Irish impulsiveness which generally
weighs acts in retrospection； she reached over and gripped his
hand。
〃I say； you two！〃 Hawksley closed his eyes for a second。 〃Wanting
to buck up a chap because you re that sort！ All right。 I'll stick
it out！ You two！ And I might be the worst scoundrel unhung！〃
He drew her hand toward his lips； and Kitty had not the power to
resist him。 She felt strangely theatrical； a character in a play；
for American men； except in playful burlesque； never kissed their
women's hands。 The moment he released the hand the old wave of
hysteria rolled over her。 She must fly。 The desire to weep；
little fool that she was！ was breaking through her defences。
Loneliness。 The two of them all alone but for Cutty。 She rose；
crushing the wallet in her hand。
Ah； never had she needed that darling mother of hers so much as
now。 Tears did not seem to afford relief when one shed them into
handkerchiefs and pillows。 But on that gentle bosom； to let
loose this brimming flood； to hear the tender voice consoling！
〃Oh； I say； now！ Please！〃 she heard Johnny Two…Hawks cry out。
But she rushed on blindly； knocking against the door jamb and almost
upsetting the nurse； who was returning。 Somehow she managed to
reach the living room； glad it was dark。 Alter sundry reaching about
she found the divan and flung herself upon it。 What would he think？
What would the nurse think？ That Kitty Conover had suddenly gone
stark； raving crazy！ And now that she was in the dark； alone； the
desire to weep passed over and she lay quietly with her face buried
in the pillow。 But not for long。
She sat up。 Music … violin music！ A gay waltz that made her think
of flashing water； the laughter of children。 Tschaikowsky。 Thrilled；
she waited for the finale。 Silence。 Scharwenka's 〃Polish Dance；〃
with a swing and a fire beyond anything she had ever heard before。
Another stretch of silence … a silence full of interrogation points。
Then a tender little sketch； quite unfamiliar。 But all at once she
understood。 He was imploring her to return。 She smiled in the dark；
but she knew she was going to remain right where she was。
〃Miss Conover？〃 It was the voice of the nurse。
〃Yes。 I'm over here on the divan。〃
〃Anything wrong？〃
〃Good gracious； no！ I'm overtired。 A little hysterical； maybe。
The parade to…day； with all those wounded boys in automobiles； the
music and colour and excitement … have rather done me up。 And the
way I rushed up here。 And not finding Cutty 〃
〃Anything I can get for you？〃
〃No； thanks。 I'll try to snatch a little sleep before Cutty returns。〃
〃But he may be gone all night！〃
〃Will it be so very scandalous if I stay here？〃
〃You poor child！ Go ahead and sleep。 Don't hesitate to call me if
you want anything。 I have a mild sedative if you would like it。〃
〃No； thanks。 I did not know that Mr。 Hawksley played。〃
〃Wonderfully！ But does it bother you？〃
〃It kind of makes me choky。〃
〃I'll tell him。〃
Kitty； now strangely at peace； snuggled down among the pillows。
Some great Polish violinist； who had roused the bitter enmity of
the anarchist？ But no； he was Russian。 Cutty had admitted that。
It struck her that Cutty knew a great deal more than Kitty Conover；
and so far as she could see there was no apparent reason for this
secrecy。 She rather believed she had Cutty。 Either he should tell
her everything or she would run loose； Bolshevik or no Bolshevik。
Sheep。 She boosted one over the bars； another and another。 Round
somewhere in the thirties the bars dissolved。 The next thing she
knew she was blinking in the light； Cutty； his arms folded； staring
down at her sombrely。 There was blood on his face and blood on his
hands。
CHAPTER XX
Karlov moodily touched the shoulder of the man on the cot。 Stefani
Gregor puzzled him。 He came to this room more often than was wise；
driven by a curiosity born of a cynical philosophy to discover what
it was t