Cutty put this aside because he did not care to disillusion Hawksley. “I found an appraiser's receipt in your wallet. You carried some fine jewels. Did you hide them or did Karlov get them? It struck me as odd that you haven't inquired about them.” The change that came into Hawksley's face alarmed Cutty. The rich olive skin became chalky and the eyes closed. “What is it? Shall I call Miss Frances?”
“No.” Hawksley opened his eyes, but looked dully straight ahead. “The stones! I was trying to forget! My God, I was trying to forget!”
“But they were yours?” Cutty was mystified beyond expression.
“Yes, mine, mine, mine!”—panting. “Damn them! Some day I'll tell you. But just now I can't toe the mark. I was trying to forget them! Against my heart, gnawing into my soul like the beetle of the Spanish Inquisition!” Silence. “But they were future bread and butter—for Gregor as well as for myself. They got them, and may they damn Karlov as they have damned me! I had no chance when I returned to Gregor's. They were on me instantly. I put up a fight, but I'd come from a lighted room and was practically blind. Let them go. Most of those stones came out of hell, anyhow. Let them go. There is an unknown grave between those stones and me.”
The level despair of the tone appalled Cutty. A crime somewhere? There was still a bottom to this affair he had not plumbed? He rose, deeply agitated.
“I'll fetch those togs for you. Miss Conover will breakfast with us, and the sight of her will give you a brace. I'm sorry. I had to ask you.”
“Beefsteak and a pretty girl! That's something. I suppose she was trapped by the lift not running.” Hawksley was trying to meet Cutty halfway to cover up the tragedy. “I say, why the deuce do you let her live where she does?”
“Because I'm not legally her guardian. She is the daughter of the man and woman I loved best. All I can do is to watch over her. She lives on her earnings as a newspaper writer. I'd give her half of all I have if I had the least idea she would accept it.”
“Fond of her?”
“Fond of her!” repeated Cutty. “Why, of course I'm fond of her!” There was a touch of indignation in his tone.