only　so　long　as　he　did　not　know；　so　much　the　better。
  With　careful　step　Hawksley　manoeuvred　his　retreat　so　that　it　brought
  him　to　Cutty's　bedroom　door。　　The　door　was　unlocked。　　He　entered
  the　room。　　What　a　lark！　　They　would　hide　his　own　clothes；　so　much
  the　worse　for　the　old　beggar's　wardrobe。　　Street　clothes。　　Presently
  he　found　a　dark　suit；　commendable　not　so　much　for　its　style　as　for
  the　fact　that　it　was　the　nearest　fit　he　could　find。　　He　had　to　roll
  up　the　trouser　hems。
  Hats。　　Chuckling　like　a　boy　rummaging　a　jam　closet；　he　rifled　the
  shelves　and　pulled　down　a　black　derby　of　an　unknown　vintage。　　Large；
  but　a　runner　of　folded　paper　reduced　the　size。　　As　he　pressed　the
  relic　firmly　down　on　his　head　he　winced。　　A　stab　over　his　eyes。　　He
  waited　doubtfully；　but　there　was　no　recurrence。　　Fit　as　a　fiddle。
  Of　course　he　could　not　stoop　without　a　flash　of　vertigo；　but　on　his
  feet　he　was　top…hole。　　He　was　gaining　every　day。
  Luck。　　He　might　have　come　out　of　it　with　the　blank　mind　of　a　newborn
  babe；　and　here　he　was；　keen　to　resume　his　adventures。　　Luck。　　They
  had　not　stopped　to　see　if　he　was　actually　dead。　　Some　passer…by　in
  the　hall　had　probably　alarmed　them。　　That　handkerchief　had　carried
  him　round　the　brink。　　Perhaps　Fate　intended　letting　him　get　through
  …　written　on　his　pass　an　extension　of　his　leave　of　absence。　　Or　she
  had　some　new　torture　in　reserve。
  Now　for　a　stout　walking　stick。　　He　selected　a　blackthorn；　twirled　it；
  saluted；　and　posed　before　the　mirror。　　Not　so　bally　rotten。　　He　would
  pass。　　Next；　he　remembered　that　there　were　some　flowers　in　the
  dining　room　…　window　boxes　with　scarlet　geraniums。　　He　broke　off　a
  sprig　and　drew　it　through　his　buttonhole。
  Outside　there　was　a　cold；　pale　April　sky；　presaging　wind　and　rain。
  Unimportant。　　He　was　going　down　into　the　streets　for　an　hour　or　so。
  The　colour　and　action　of　a　crowded　street；　the　lure　was　irresistible。
  Who　would　dare　touch　him　in　the　crowd？　　These　rooms　had　suddenly
  become　intolerable。
  He　leaned　against　the　side　of　the　window。　　Roofs；　thousands　of　them；
  flat；　domed；　pinnacled；　and　somewhere　under　one　of　these　roofs
  Stefani　Gregor　was　eating　his　heart　out。　　It　did　not　matter　that
  this　queer　old　eagle　whom　everybody　called　Cutty　had　promised　to
  bring　Stefani　home。　　It　might　be　too　late。　　Stefani　was　old；　highly
  strung。　　Who　knew　what　infernal　lies　Karlov　had　told　him？　　Stefani
  could　stand　up　under　physical　torture；　but　to　tear　at　his　soul；　to
  twist　and　rend　his　spirit！
  The　bubble　in　the　champagne　died　down　…　as　it　always　will　if　one
  permits　it　to　stand。　　He　felt　the　old　mood　seep　through　the　dikes
  of　his　gayety。　　Alone。　　A　familiar　face　…　he　would　have　dropped　on
  his　knees　and　thanked　God　for　the　sight　of　a　familiar　face。　　These
  people；　kindly　as　they　were　…　what　were　they　but　strangers？
  Yesterday　he　had　not　known　them；　to…morrow　he　would　leave　them
  behind　forever。　　All　at　once　the　mystery　of　this　bubbling　idea　was
  bared：　he　was　going　to　risk　his　life　in　the　streets　in　the　vague
  hope　of　seeing　some　face　he　had　known　in　the　days　before　the　world
  had　gone　drunk　on　blood。　　One　familiar　face。
  Of　course　he　would　never　forget　…　at　any　rate；　not　the　girl　whose
  courage　had　made　possible　this　hour。　　Those　chaps；　scared　off
  temporarily；　might　have　returned。　　What　had　become　of　her？　　He　was
  a1ways　seeing　her　lovely　face　in　the　shadows；　now　tender；　now
  resolute；　now　mocking。　　Doubtless　he　thought　of　her　constantly
  because　his　freedom　of　action　was　limited。　　He　hadn't　diversion
  enough。　　Books　and　fiddling；　these　carried　him　but　halfway　through
  the　boredom。　　Where　was　she？　　Daily　he　had　called　her　by　telephone；
  no　answer。　　The　Jap　shook　his　head；　the　slangy　boy　in　the　lift　shook
  his。
  She　was　a　thoroughbred；　even　if　she　had　been　born　of　middle　…class
  parentage。　　He　laughed　bitterly。　　Middle　class。　　A　homeless；
  countryless　derelict；　and　he　had　the　impudence　to　revert　to
  comparisons　that　no　longer　existed　in　this　topsy…turvy　old　world。
  He　was　an　upstart。　　The　final　curtain　had　dropped　between　him　and
  his　world；　and　he　was　still　thinking　in　the　ancient　make…up。　　Middle
  class！　　He　was　no　better　than　a　troglodyte；　set　down　in　a　new
  wilderness。
  He　heard　the　curtain　rings　slither　on　the　pole。　　Believing　the
  intruder　to　be　Kuroki　he　turned　belligerently。　　And　there　she　stood
  …　the　girl　herself！　　The　poise　of　her　reminded　him　of　the　Winged
  Victory　in　the　Louvre。　　Where　there　had　been　a　cup　of　champagne　in
  his　veins　circumstance　now　poured　a　magnum。
  〃You！〃　he　cried。
  〃What　has　happened？　　Where　are　you　going　in　those　clothes？〃　demanded
  Kitty。
  〃I　am　running　away　…　for　an　hour　or　so。〃
  〃But　you　must　not！　　The　risks　…　after　all　the　trouble　we've　had　to
  help　you！〃
  〃I　shall　be　perfectly　safe；　for　you　are　going　with　me。　　Aren't　you
  my　guardian　angel？　　Well；　rather！　　The　two　of　us　…　people；　lights；
  shop　windows！　　Perfectly　splendiferous！　　Honestly；　now；　where's　the
  harm？〃　　He　approached　her　rapidly　as　he　spoke；　and　before　the　spell
  of　him　could　be　shaken　off　Kitty　found　her　hands　imprisoned　in　his。
  〃Please！　　I've　been　so　damnably　bored。　　The　two　of　us　in　the　streets；
  among　the　crowds！　　No　one　will　dare　touch　us。　　Can't　you　see？　　And
  then　…　I　say；　this　is　ripping　！　　…　we'll　have　dinner　together　here。
  I　will　play　for　you　on　the　old　Amati。　　Please！〃
  The　fire　of　him　communicated　to　the　combustibles　in　Kitty's　soul。
  A　wild；　reckless　irony　besieged　her。　　This　adventure　would　be
  exactly　what　she　needed；　it　would　sweep　clear　the　fog　separating
  one　side　of　her　brain　from　the　other。　　For　it　was　plain　enough
  that　part　of　her　brain　refused　to　cooperate　with　the　other。　　A
  break　in　the　trend　of　thought：　she　might　succeed　in　getting　hold
  of　the　puzzle　if　she　could　drop　it　absolutely　for　a　little　while
  and　then　pick　it　up　again。
  She　had　not　gone　home。　　She　had　not　notified　Bernini。　　She　had
  checked　her　luggage　in　the　station　parcel　room　and　come　directly
  here。　　For　what？　　To　let　the　sense　of　luxury　overcome　the　hidden
  repugnance　of　the　idea　of　marrying　Cutty；　divorcing　him；　and
  living　on　his　money。　　To　put　herself　in　the　way　of　visible
  temptation。　　What　fretted　her　so；　what　was　wearing　her　down　to
  the　point　of　fatigue；　was　the　patent　imbecility　of　her　reluctance。
  There　would　have　been　some　sense　of　it　if　Cutty　had　proposed　a
  real　marriage。　　All　she　had　to　do　was　mumble　a　few　words；　sign
  her　name　to　a　document；　live　out　West　for　a　few　months；　and　be
  in　comfortable　circumstances　all　the　rest　of　her　life。　　And　she
  doddered！
  She　would　run　the　streets　with　Johnny　Two…Hawks；　return；　and　dine
  with　him。　　Who　cared？　　Proper　or　improper；　whose　business　was　it　but
  Kitty　Conover's？　　Danger？　　That　was　the　peculiar　attraction。　　She
  wanted　to　rush　into　danger；　some　tense　excitement　the　strain　of
  which　would　lift　her　out　of　her　mood。　　A　recurrent　touch　of　the　wild
  impulsiveness　of　her　childhood。　　Hadn't　she　sometimes　flown　out　into
  thunderstorms；　after　merited　punishment；　to　punish　the　mother　whom
  thunder　terrorized？　　And　now　she　was　going　to　rush　into　unknown
  danger　to　punish　Fate　…　like　a　silly　child！　　Nevertheless；　she　would
  go　into　the　streets　with　Johnny　Two…Hawks。
  〃But　are　you　strong　enough　to　venture　on　the　streets？〃
  〃Rot！　　Dash　it　all；　I'm　no　mollycoddle！　　All　nonsense　to　keep　me
  pinned　in　like　this。　　Will　you　go　with　me　…　be　my　guide？〃
  〃Yes！〃　She　shot　out　the　word　and　crossed　the　Rubicon　before　reason
  could　begin　to　lecture。　　Besides；　wasn't　reason　treating　her　shabbily
  in　withholding　the　key　to　the　riddle？　　〃Johnny　Two…Hawks；　I　will　go
  as　far　as　Harlem　if　you　want　me　to。〃
  〃Johnny　Two…Hawks！〃　　He　laughed　joyously；　then　kissed　her　hands。
  But　he　had　to　pay　for　this　bending　…　a　stab　that　filled　his　eyes
  with　flying　sparks。　　He　must　remember；　once　out　of　doors；　not　to
  stoop　quickly。　　〃I　say；　you're　the　jolliest　girl　I　ever　met！　　Just
  the　two　of　us；　what？〃
  〃The　way　you　speak　English　is　wonderful！〃
  〃Simple　enough　to　explain。　　Had　an　English　nurse　from　the　beginning。
  Spoke　English　and　Italian　before　I　spoke　Russian。〃
  He　seized　the　wooden　mallet　and　beat　the　Burmese　gong　…　a　flat　piece
  of　brass　cut　in　the　shape　of　a　bell。　　The　clear；　whirring　vibrations
  filled　the　room。　　Long　before　these　spent　themselves　Kuroki　appeared
  on　the　threshold。　　He　bobbed。
  〃Kuroki；　Miss　Conover　is　dining　here　with　me　to…night。　　Seven
  o'clock　sharp。　　The　best　you　have　in　the　larder。〃
  〃Yes；　sair。　　You　are　going　out；　sair？〃
  〃For　a　bit　of　fresh　air。〃
  〃And　I　am　going　with　him；　Kuroki；〃　said　Kitty。　　Kuroki　bobbed　again。
  〃Dinner　at　seven；　sair。〃　　Another　bob；　and　he　returned　to　the
  kitchen；　smiling。　　The　girl　was　free　to　come　and　go；　of　course；　but
  the　ancient　enemy　of　Nippon　would　not　pass　the　elevator　door。　　Let
  him　find　that　out　for　himself。
  When　the　elevator　arrived　the　boy　did　not　open　the　door。　　He　noted
  the　derby　on　Hawksley's　head。
  〃I　can　take　you　down；　Miss　Conover；　but　I　cannot　take　Mr。　Hawksley。
  When　the　boss　gives　me　an　order　I　obey　it　…　if　I　possibly　can。　　On
  the　day　the　boss　tells　me　you　can　go　strolling；　I'll　give　you　the
  key　to　the　city。　　Until　then；　nix！　　No　use　arguing；　Mr。　Hawksley。〃
  〃I　shan't　argue；〃　replied　Hawksley；　meekly。　　〃I　am　really　a　prisoner