“You spoke of Karlov. Who is he?”
“Why, the man who followed you across half the world.”
“There were many. What is he like?”
“A gorilla.”
“Ah!” Hawksley became galvanized and extended his fists. “God let me live long enough to put my hands on him! I had the chance the other day—to blot out his face with my boots! But I couldn't do it! I couldn't do it!” He sagged in the chair. “No, no! Just a bit groggy. All right in a moment.”
“By the Lord Harry, I'll see you through. Now buck up. Hear that?” cried Cutty, throwing up a window.
“Music.”
“Look through that street there. See the glint of bayonets? American soldiers, marching up Fifth Avenue, thousands of them, freemen who broke the vaunted Hindenburg Line. God bless 'em! Americans, every mother's son of 'em; who went away laughing, who returned laughing, who will go back to their jobs laughing. The ability to laugh, that's America. Do you know how to laugh?”
“I used to. I'm jolly weak just now. But I'll grin if you want me to.” And Hawksley grinned.
“That's the way. A grin in this country will take you quite as far. All right. In five years you'll be voting. I'll see to that. Now back to bed with you, and no more leaving it until the nurse says so. What you need is rest.”