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〃Why wasn't I told this at the start？〃
〃You were told； indirectly。 We did not care to frighten you。〃
〃I'm not frightened；〃 said Kitty。
〃Nope。 But we wish to the Lord you were； Miss Conover。 When you
want to come home； wire me and I'll motor out for you。〃
Another fragment。 Karlov's agent sought his chief and found him in
the cellar of the old house； sinisterly engaged。 The wall bench
was littered with paraphernalia well known to certain chemists。 Had
the New York bomb squad known of the existence of this den； the
short hair on their necks would have risen。
〃Well？〃 greeted Karlov； moodily。
〃I have found the man in the dress suit。〃
〃He and the Conover girl left that office building together this
morning； and I followed them to Park Row。 This man uses the loft
of the building for his home。 No elevator goes up unless you have
credentials。 Our man is hiding there； Boris。〃
Karlov dry…washed his hands。 〃We'll send him one of the samples if
we fail in regard to the girl。 You say she arrives daily at the
newspaper office about nine and leaves between five and six？〃
〃Every day but Sunday。〃
〃Good news。 Two bolts； one or the other will go home。〃
About the same time in Cutty's apartment rather an amusing comedy
took place。 Professor Ryan； late physical instructor at one of
the aviation camps； stood Hawksley in front of him and ran his
hard hands over the young man's body。 Miss Frances stood at
one side； her arms folded； her expression skeptical。
〃Nothin' the matter with you； Bo； but the crack on the conk。〃
〃Right…o！〃 agreed Hawksley。
〃Lemme see your hands。 Humph。 Soft。 Now stand on that threshold。
That's it。 Walk t' the' end o' the hall an' back。 Step lively。〃
〃But 〃began Miss Frances in protest。 This was cruelty。
〃I'm the doctor； miss；〃 interrupted Ryan； crisply。 〃If he falls
down he goes t' bed； an' you stay。 If he makes it； he follows my
instructions。〃
When Hawksley returned to the starting line the walls rocked； there
were two or three blinding stabs of pain； but he faced this unusual
Irishman with never a hint of the torture。 A wild longing to be
gone from this kindly prison … to get away from the thought of the
girl。
〃All right；〃 said Ryan。 〃Now toddle back t' bed。〃
〃Bed？〃
〃Yep。 Goin' t' give you a rub that'll start all your machinery
workin'。〃
Docilely Hawksley obeyed。 He wasn't going to let them know； but
that bed was going to be tolerably welcome。
〃Well！〃 said Miss Frances。 〃I don't see how he did it。〃
〃I do；〃 said the ex…pugilist。 〃I told him to。 Either he was a
false alarm； or he'd attempt the job even if he fell down。 The
hull thing is this： Make a guy wanta get well an' he'll get well。
If he's got any pride； dig it up。 Go after 'em。 He hasn't lost
any blood。 No serious body wound。 A crack on the conk。 It
mighta killed him。 It didn't。 He didn't wabble an' fall down。
So my dope is right。 Drop in in a few days an' I'll show yuh。〃
Miss Frances held out her hand。 〃You've handled men；〃 she said；
with reluctant admiration。
〃Oh； boy！ … millions of 'em； an' each guy different。 Believe me！
Make 'em wanta。〃
Cutty attended his conferences。 He learned immediately that he was
booked to sail the first week in May。 His itinerary began at
Piraeus； in Greece； and might end in Vladivostok。 But they detained
him in Washington overtime because he was a fount of information the
departments found it necessary to draw upon constantly。 The
political and commercial aspects of the polyglot peoples； what they
wanted； what they expected； what they needed； racial enmities。 The
bugaboo of the undesirable alien was no longer bothering official
heads in Washington。 Stringent immigration laws were in the making。
What they wanted to know was an American's point of view； based upon
long and intimate associations。
Washington reminded him of nothing so much as a big sheep dog。 The
hazardous day was over； the wolves had been driven off and the sheep
into the fold； and now the valiant guardian was turning round and
round and round preparatory to lying down to sleep。 For Washington
would go to sleep again； naturally。
Often it occurred to him what a remarkable piece of machinery the
human brain was。 He could dig up all this dry information with the
precise accuracy of an economist； all the while his actual thoughts
upon Kitty。 His nights were nightmares。 And all this unhappiness
because he had been touched with the lust for loot。 Fundamentally；
this catastrophe could be laid to the drums of jeopardy。
The alluring possibility of finding those damnable green stones … the
unsuspected kink in his moral rectitude … had tumbled him into this
pit。 Had not Kitty pronounced the name Stefani Gregor … in his
mind always linked with the emeralds … he would have summoned an
ambulance and had Hawksley carried off； despite Kitty's protests；
and perhaps he would have seen her but two or three times before
sailing； seen her in conventional and unemotional parts。 At any
rate； there would have been none of this peculiar intimacy … Kitty
coming to him in tears； opening her young heart to him and
discovering all its loneliness。 If she loved some chap it would
not be so hard； the temptation would not be so keen … to cheat her。
Marry her； and then tell her。 This dogged his thoughts like a
murderer's deed； terrible in the watches of the night。 Marry her；
and then tell her。 Cheat her。 Break her heart and break his own。
Fifty…two。 Never before had he thought old。 His splendid health
and vigorous mentality were the results of thinking young。 But now
he heard the avalanche stirring； the whispering slither of the
first pebbles。 He would grow old swiftly； thunderously。 Kitty's
youth would shore up the debacle； suspend it indefinitely。 Marry
her； cheat her； and stay young。 Green stones； accursed。
Kitty's days were pleasant enough； but her nights were sieges。 One
evening someone put Elman's rendition of Schubert's 〃Ave Maria〃 on
the phonograph。 Long after it was over she sat motionless in her
chair。 Echoes。 The Tschaikowsky waltz。 She got up suddenly；
excused herself； and went to her room。
Six days； and her problem was still unsolved。 Something in her
… she could not define it； she could not reach it； it defied
analysis … something； then； revolted at the idea of marrying Cutty；
divorcing him； and living on his money。 There was a touch of
horror in the suggestion。 It was tearing her to pieces； this hidden
repellence。 And yet this occult objection was so utterly absurd。
If he died and left her a legacy she would accept it gratefully
enough。 Cutty's plan was only a method of circumventing this
indefinite wait。
Comforts； the good things of life； amusements … simply by nodding
her head。 Why not？ It wasn't as if Cutty was asking her to be
his wife； he wasn't。 Just wanted to dodge convention； and give her
freedom and happiness。 He was only giving her a mite out of his
income。 Because he had loved her mother； because； but for an
accident of chance； she； Kitty； might have been his daughter。 Why；
then； this persistent and unaccountable revulsion？ Why should she
hesitate？ The ancient female fear of the trap？ That could not be
it。 For a more honourable； a more lovable man did not walk the
earth。 Brave； strong； handsome； whimsical … why； Cutty was a catch！
Comfy。 Never any of that inherent doubt of man when she was with
him。 Absolute trust。 An evil thought had entered her head； fate
had made it honourably possible。 And still this mysterious
repellence。
Romance？ She was not surrendering her right to that。 What was a
year out of her life if afterward she would be in comfortable
circumstances； free to love where she willed？ She wasn't cheating
herself or Cutty： she was cheating convention； a flimsy thing at
best。
Windows。 We carry our troubles to our windows； through windows we
see the stars。 We cannot visualize God； but we can see His stars
pinned to the immeasurable spaces。 So Kitty sought her window and
added her question to the countless millions forlornly wandering
about up there； and finding no answer。
But she would return to New York on the morrow。 She would not
summon Bernini as she had promised。 She would go back by train；
alone； unhampered。
And in his cellar Boris Karlov spun his web for her。
CHAPTER XXVI
Hawksley heard the lift door close； and he knew that at last he was
alone。 He flung out his arms； ecstatically。 Free！ He would see
no more of that nagging beggar Ryan until tomorrow。 Free to put
into execution the idea that had been bubbling all day long in his
head； like a fine champagne； firing his blood with reckless
whimsicality。
Quietly he stole down the corridor。 Through a crack in the kitchen
door he saw Kuroki's back； the attitude of which was satisfying。
It signified that the Jap was pegging away at his endless studies
and that only the banging of the gong would rouse him。 The way was
as broad and clear as a street at dawn。 Not that Kuroki mattered；
only so long as he did not know； so much the better。
With careful step Hawksley manoeuvred his retreat so that it