me" said Kitty, which is the way all women start their wheedling.
Cutty looked into the bowl of his pipe.
"Kitty, when you throw a cobble into a pond, what happens? A splash. But did you ever notice the way the ripples have of running on and on, until they touch the farthest shore?"
"Yes. And this is a ripple from some big stone cast into the pond of southeastern Europe. I understand."
"That's just the difficulty. If you understood nothing it would be much easier for me. But you know just enough to want to follow up on your own hook. I know nothing definitely; I have only suspicions. I calmed that policeman by showing him a blanket police power issued by the commissioner. I want you to pack up and move out of this neighbourhood. It's not congenial to you."
"I'm afraid I can't afford to move until May."
"I'll take care of that gladly, to get you out of this garlicky ruin."
"No, Cutty; I'm going to stay here until the lease is up."
"Gee-whiz! The Irish are all alike," cried the war correspondent, hopelessly. "Petticoat or pantaloon, always looking for trouble."
"No, Cutty; simply we don't run away from it. And there's just as much Irish in you as there is in me."
