Caruth protested. “She couldn’t, I tell you!” he cried. “The time element——”
“Oh, I don’t think she did. I am merely citing possibilities. I don’t think she did, and I am free to admit that I really believe that Wilkins got only what he was fishing for. He was clearly a thief, and he seems to have been playing a dangerous game and to have lost out. I certainly do not feel called upon to take any steps to avenge him. But the girl is a different matter. You want to find her. Why?”
“I told you. Because I love her.”
“I understand that. But what then? You can’t possibly marry her!”
Caruth flushed. He looked very boyish to the reporter, who, scarcely older in years, was infinitely his senior in man-making experiences and responsibilities. Boyish, Caruth was without doubt, but American boys possess possibilities of rapid development that amaze the older people of the globe.
“Can’t I?” he answered, between his teeth. “Perhaps not. But if she is free, I mean to try. Anyhow, I must see her. I must. You said you might be able to help me!” he finished, with a boyish appeal in his voice.
The reporter rose and took up his hat. “I can give you some information,” he admitted. “Whether it will help you, is another question. You have been assuming, I believe, that the lady is a nihilist, or terrorist, or whatever they may call themselves?”
“Yes. Is she not?”
“God knows! She may be. On the other hand she may be an agent of the Russian Government, or she may be playing for her own hand. Europe breeds plenty of men and women—aristocrats to their finger-tips—who are driven by poverty to shady ways. Until the bloom is rubbed off, they are the most dangerous rogues living, bearers of proud names, masters of every social grace, apparently with everything to commend them, and yet rotten to the core. Europeans spot them and weed them out after a while, but we Americans are always fair game. I don’t say your Miss Fitzhugh is one of these—but she may be. An angel face is often part of a stock in trade. Be wise, Mr. Caruth. This woman has taken herself out of your life. Let her go!”
But the young fellow shook his head. “I won’t believe any evil of her,” he muttered, “and, any way, I must find her.”