stairs, but it would be dawn before you reach the street."
"Who cares?"
"I do. I don't believe you're in a good mood to send back to that garlicky warren. I wish to the Lord you'd leave it!"
"It's difficult to find anything desirable within my means. Rents are terrifying. I'll sleep on the divan. A rug or a blanket. I'm a silly fool, I suppose."
"You can have a guest room."
"I'd rather the divan; less scandalous. Cutty, I forgot. He played for me."
"What? He did?"
"I had to run out of the room because some things he said choked me up. Didn't care whether he died or not. He was even lonelier than I. I lay down on the divan, and then I heard music. Funny, but somehow I fancied he was calling me back; and I had to hang on to the divan. Cutty, he is a great violinist."
"Are you fond of music?"
"I am mad about it! I'm always running round to concerts; and I'd walk from Battery to Bronx to hear a good violinist."
Fiddles and Irish hearts. Swiftly came the vision of Hawksley fiddling the heart out of this lonely girl if he had the chance. And he, Cutty, was going to fascinate her—with what? He rose and
