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 protégé 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."
