Part 38 (1/2)

”More so,” says he. ”But it's only seeing you again that brings on the attack. Katie, you're glorious!”

”Please!” says she, protestin'. ”I've rather outgrown my liking for sentimental speeches. Tell me, why do you hunt me up like this, after so long?”

”Can you ask?” says he. ”Look! No--in my eyes, Katie.”

And, say, with things gettin' that gummy, I was beginnin' to feel like a cold boiled potato served accidental with the pie.

”Excuse me,” says I, ”but maybe I'd better wait in the next room.”

”Not at all,” says Mrs. Steele, real crisp and businesslike. ”It will be only for a moment, while Mr. Bolan states very briefly his exact purpose in coming here.”

Larry bows. ”To see once more the girl he could not forget,” says he.

”Humph!” says she, curlin' her upper lip. ”Very pretty, I suppose. But let me a.s.sure you that foolish young person ceased to exist several years ago.”

”She lives for me--here,” says Larry, placin' one hand on his left vest pocket.

Mrs. Steele indulges in a thin little cold-storage laugh that sounds almost as pleasant as tappin' a gas pipe. ”What a sudden revival of an old, worn-out affection!” says she. ”When did you first hear I was a widow?”

”Less than an hour ago,” says Larry.

”Did they say I was rich, or poor?” she goes on sarcastic.

”Katie!” says he gaspy. ”Surely you--you can't think----”

”It's what I ask them all,” says she, ”domestic and imported. Naturally I am a little suspicious when they declare pa.s.sionate love at the first or second meeting; for, in spite of what my maids tell me, my mirror insists that I'm not ravis.h.i.+ngly beautiful. So I've begun to suspect that perhaps my money may be the attraction. And I'm not in the market for a husband, you know.”

”Bing-g-g!” says I under my breath.

As for Larry Bolan, it leaves him with his chin down. For, after all, he ain't one of your walrus-hided gents. As a matter of fact, he's as sensitive as they come, and she couldn't have handed it out rougher.

”My dear lady,” says he, ”you are pleased to be cruel. Perhaps, though, it's only my due. I admit that I'm only a poor pensioner posing as a gentleman. But within a month I shall be on my way to bury myself on the other side of the world. Meanwhile, I see you pa.s.s. Could I help wanting a few kind words of yours to take with me?”

”If that is really all, Mr. Bolan,” says she, ”I would advise you to outlive your nonsense, as I've outlived mine. Try paying your tailor with kind words.”

”Katie,” says he, with a sob in his voice, ”you--you've broken the heart of me. Come, McCabe, we will go.”

She stands watchin' us, smilin' cynical, until we're almost through the door; and then--well, it's a sigh that comes out explosive. She starts as if she meant to dash after us, and then stops with her arms out.

”Larry!” says she, almost in a whisper.

It pulls him up, and he stares at her a minute over his shoulder. ”It's no use, Katie,” says he. ”What's turned you hard and cold I don't know; but you can't unsay what's been said. And it hurt--bitter.”

”Oh, I know, I know!” says she. ”But you must hear what it was that changed me from the girl you knew. Money, Larry, the money for which I married. As for the man--oh, I suppose he was no worse than the rest; only he taught me to love a dollar more than anything else in earth or heaven. He'd wrung all of his from a grudging world with his bare hands,--starved and slaved and plotted for it, in mean ways, against mean men; then fought to hold it. And he knew to a penny's worth what every dollar he spent should buy for him. Among other things, he bought me. Sixty-odd he was; I barely twenty. Why call it differently? I was fool enough, too, to think I was a lucky girl. Ah, what a fool! Seven years of fear and hate! It's an awful thing, Larry, to live so long with hate in you for one at your side. But he--he never knew.”

She leaves off, squeezin' one hand in the other until the ends of the fingers went white, her chest heavin', her eyes stary. Larry watches her without a word.

”Tell me,” says she after a bit, ”why you ran away that time and left me to--to make such a mess of things. Why?”