Kitty laughed. "Never call yourself old to me again. Are you always
doing these things?"
"Well, I keep moving. I suspected something like this might happen.
Those two will go to the Tombs to await deportation if they are aliens.
Perhaps we can dig something out of them relative to this man Gregor.
Anyhow, we'll try."
"Cutty, I saw a man in the court with a pocket lamp before I went to
bed. He was hunting for something."
"I didn't find anything but a lot of fresh food someone had thrown out."
"It was you, then?"
"Yes. There was a vague possibility that your protege might have thrown
out something valuable during the struggle."
"What?"
"Lord knows! A queer business, Kitty, you've lugged me into--my own!
And there is one thing I want you to remember particularly: Life means
nothing to the men opposed, neither chivalry nor ethics. Annihilation is
their business. They don't want civilization; they want chaos. They
have lost the sense of comparisons or they would not seek to thrust
Bolshevism down the throats of the rest of the world. They say democracy
has failed, and their substitute is murder and loot. Kitty, I want you
to leave this roost."
"I shall stay until my lease expires."
"Why? In the face of real danger?"
"Because I intend to, Cutty--unless you kidnap me."
"Have you any good reason?"
"You'll laugh; but something tells me to stay here."
But Cutty did not laugh. "Very well. Tomorrow an assistant janitor will
be installed. His name is Antonio Bernini. Every night he will whistle
up the tube. Whistle back. If you are going out for the evening notify
him where you intend to go and when you expect to be back. A wire from
your bed to his cot will be installed. In danger, press the button.
That's the best I can do for you, since you decide to stick. I don't
believe anything more will happen to-night, but from now on you will be
watched. Never come directly to my apartment. Break your journey two
or three times with taxis. Always use Elevator Four. The boy is mine;
belongs to the service. So our Bolshevik friends won't gather anything
about you from him."
As a matter of fact, Cutty had now come to the conviction that it would
be well to let Kitty remain here as a lure. He had urged her to leave,
and she had refused, so his conscience was tolerably clear. Besides, she
would henceforth be guarded with a ceaseless efficiency second only to
that which encompasses a President of the United States. Always some man
of the service would be watching those who watched her. This was going
to develop into a game of small nets, one or two victims at a time.
Because these enemies of civilization lacked coherence in action there
would be slim chance of rounding them up in bulk. But from now on men
would vanish--one here, a pair there, perhaps on occasion four or five.
And those who had known them would know them no more. The policy would
be that employed by the British in the submarine campaign--mysterious
silence after the evanishment.