"Would you marry me, Kitty?"
"Are you serious?"
"Let's suppose I am."
"No. I couldn't marry you, Cutty I should always be having my mother's
ghost as a rival."
"But supposing I fell in love with you?"
"Then I'd always be doubting your constancy. But what queer talk!"' "Kitty, you're a joy! Lordy, my luck in dropping in to see you
yesterday!"
"And a little whippersnapper like me calling a great man like you
Cutty!"
"Well, if it embarrasses you, you might switch to papa once in a while."
Kitty's laughter rang down the corridor. "I'll remember that whenever I
want to make you mad. Who's here?"
"Nobody but Harrison and the nurse. Both good citizens, and I've taken
them into my confidence to a certain extent. You can talk freely before
them."
"Am I to see the patient?"
"Harrison says not. About Wednesday your Two-Hawks will be sitting up.
I've determined to keep the poor devil here until he can take care of
himself. But he is flat broke."
"He said he had money."
"Well, Karlov's men stripped him clean."
"Have you any idea who he is?"
"To be honest, that's one of the reasons why I want to keep him here.
He's Russian, for all his Oxford English and his Italian gestures; and
from his babble I imagine he's been through seven kinds of hell. Torches
and hobnailed boots and the incessant call for a woman named Olga--a
young woman about eighteen."
"How did you find that out?"
"From a photograph I found in the lining of his coat. A pretty blonde
girl."
"Good heavens!"--recollecting her dream. "Where was it printed?"
"Amateur photography. I'll pick it up on the way to the living room."
It was nothing like the blonde girl of her dream. Still, the girl was
charming. Kitty turned over the photograph. There was writing on the
back.
"Russian? What does it say?"
"'To Ivan from Olga with all her love.'"
Cutty was conscious of the presence of an indefensible malice in his
tones. Why the deuce should he be bitter--glad that the chap had left
behind a sweetheart? He knew exactly the basis of Kitty's interest, as
utterly detached as that of a reporter going to a fire. On the day the
patient could explain himself, Kitty's interest would automatically
cease. An old dog in the manger? Malice.