Anarchists -- Fiction; Jewel thieves -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Precious stones -- Fiction; Suspense fiction
“I know, I know! It is because you have a soul full of beautiful things,
Johnny. God held you back from dying with Olga because He knew I needed
you.”
“You will marry me, knowing that I did this thing?”
Marry him! A door to some blinding radiance opened, and she could not
see for a little while. Marry him! What a miserable wretch she was to
think that he would want her otherwise! Johnny Two-Hawks, fiddling in
front of the Metropolitan Opera House, to fill a poor blind man's cup!
“Yes, Johnny. Now, yesterdays never were. For us there is nothing but
to-morrows. Out there, in the great country--where souls as well as
bodies may stretch themselves--we'll start all over again. You will be
the cowman and I'll be the kitchen wench. As in the beginning, so it
will always be hereafter, I'll cook your bacon and eggs.”
She pulled his chair round and pushed it toward a window, dropped beside
it and laid her cheek against his hand.
“Let us look at the stars, Johnny. They know.” Kuroki, having arrived
with coffee and sandwiches, paused on the threshold, gazed, wheeled
right about face, and returned to the kitchen.
By and by Kitty looked up into Hawksley's face. He was asleep. She got
up carefully, lightly kissed the top of his head--the old wound--and
crossed to Cutty's door. She must tell dear old Cutty of the wonderful
happiness that was going to be hers. She opened the study door, but did
not enter at once. Asleep on his arms. Why, he hadn't even opened that
Ali Baba's bag! Tired out--done in, as Johnny Two-Hawks called it in his
English fashion. She waited; but as he did not stir she approached with
noiseless step. The light poured full upon his head. How gray he was! A
boundless pity surged over her that this tender, valiant knight should
have missed what first her mother had known--now she herself--requited
love. To have everything in the world without that was to have nothing.
She would not wake him; she would let him sleep until Captain Harrison
came. Lightly she touched the gray head with her lips and stole from the
study.
“Oh, Molly, Molly!” Cutty whispered into his rigid fingers.
And so they were married, in the apartment, at the top of the world, on
a May night thick with stars. It was not a wedding; it was a marriage.
The world never knew because it was none of the world's business. Who
was Kitty Conover? A nobody. Who was John Hawksley? Something to be.
Out of the storm into the calm; which is something of a reversal.
Generally in love affairs happiness is found in the approach to the
marriage contract; the disillusions come afterward. It was therefore
logical that Kitty and her lover should be happy, as they had run the
gamut of test and fire beforehand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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