Oh, the blind little fool she had been! All those constant warnings, and she had not heeded! Cutty had warned her repeatedly, so had Bernini; and she had deliberately walked into this trap. As if this cold, murderous madman would risk showing himself without some grim and terrible purpose. She had written either Cutty's or Johnny Two-Hawks' death warrant. She covered her eyes. It was horrible.
Perhaps not Cutty, but assuredly Two-Hawks. His life for her liberty.
"And he will come!" she whispered.
She knew it. How, was not to be analyzed. She just knew that he would come. What if he had smiled like that! The European point of view and her own monumental folly. He would come quietly, without protest, and give himself up.
"God forgive me! What can I do? What can I do?"
She slid to the floor and rocked her body. Her fault! He would come—even as Cutty would have come had he been the man demanded. And Karlov would kill him—because he was an error in chronology! She sensed also that the anarchist would not look upon his act as murder. He would be removing an obstacle from the path of his sick dreams.
Comparisons! She saw how much alike the two were. Cutty was only Johnny Two-Hawks at fifty-two fearless and whimsical. Had Cutty gone
