Part 9 (1/2)
He tried to throw his mind back to the last occasion when he had seen Molly. He could not remember that he had felt any excessive emotion.
Between _camaraderie_ and love there is a broad gulf. It had certainly never been bridged in the old New York days. Then the frank friendliness of which the American girl appears to have the monopoly had been Molly's chief charm in his eyes. It had made possible a comrades.h.i.+p such as might have existed between men. But now there was a difference. England seemed to have brought about a subtle change in her. Instinctively he felt that the old friends.h.i.+p, adequate before, was not enough now. He wanted more. The unexpected meeting, following so closely upon Spike's careless words in London, had shown him his true feelings. Misgivings crept upon him. Had he a right? Was it fair?
He looked back at the last eight years of his life with the eye of an impartial judge. He saw them stripped of the glamour which triumphant cunning had lent them; saw them as they would appear to Molly.
He scowled at his reflection in the gla.s.s. ”You've been a bad lot, my son,” he said. ”There's only one thing in your favor; and that is the fact that you've cut it all out for keeps. We must be content with that.”
There was a furtive rap at the door. ”Hullo?” said Jimmy. ”Yes?”
The door opened slowly. A grin, surmounted by a mop of red hair, appeared round the edge of it.
”Well, Spike. Come in. What's the matter?”
The rest of Mr. Mullins entered the room.
”Gee, Mr. Chames, I wasn't sure dat dis was your room. Say, who do youse t'ink I nearly b.u.mped me coco ag'in out in de corridor? Why, old man McEachern, de cop. Dat's right!”
”Yes?”
”Sure. Say, what's he doin' on dis beat? Youse c'u'd have knocked me down wit' a bit of poiper when I see him. I pretty near went down and out. Dat's right. Me heart ain't got back home yet.”
”Did he recognize you?”
”Sure! He starts like an actor on top de stoige when he sees he's up against de plot to ruin him, an' he gives me de fierce eye.”
”Well?”
”I was wondering was I on Third Avenue, or was I standing on me coco, or what was I doin', anyhow. Den I slips off and chases meself up here. Say, Mr. Chames, can _youse_ put me wise? What's de game?
What's old man McEachern doin' stunts dis side for?”
”It's all right, Spike. Keep calm. I can explain. Mr. McEachern owns the house.”
”On your way, Mr. Chames! What's dat?”
”This is his house we're in, now. He left the force three years ago, came over here, and bought this place. And here we are again, all gathered together under the same roof, like a jolly little family party.”
Spike's open mouth bore witness to his amazement.
”Den all dis----”
”Belongs to him? That's it. We are his guests, Spike.”
”But what's he goin' to do?”
”I couldn't say. I'm expecting to hear shortly. But we needn't worry ourselves. The next move's with him. If he wants to say anything about it, he must come to me.”
”Sure. It's up to him,” agreed Spike.
”I'm quite comfortable. Speaking for myself, I'm having a good time.
How are you getting on downstairs?”
”De limit, Mr. Chames. Honest, I'm on pink velvet. Dey's an old gazebo, de butler, Keggs his name is, dat's de best ever at handing out long woids. I sit and listen. Dey calls me Mr. Mullins down dere,”