“Johnny Two-Hawks!” He laughed joyously, then kissed her hands. But he had to pay for this bending—a stab that filled his eyes with flying sparks. He must remember, once out of doors, not to stoop quickly. “I say, you're the jolliest girl I ever met! Just the two of us, what?”
“The way you speak English is wonderful!”
“Simple enough to explain. Had an English nurse from the beginning. Spoke English and Italian before I spoke Russian.”
He seized the wooden mallet and beat the Burmese gong—a flat piece of brass cut in the shape of a bell. The clear, whirring vibrations filled the room. Long before these spent themselves Kuroki appeared on the threshold. He bobbed.
“Kuroki, Miss Conover is dining here with me to-night. Seven o'clock sharp. The best you have in the larder.”
“Yes, sair. You are going out, sair?”
“For a bit of fresh air.”
“And I am going with him, Kuroki,” said Kitty. Kuroki bobbed again. “Dinner at seven, sair.” Another bob, and he returned to the kitchen, smiling. The girl was free to come and go, of course, but the ancient enemy of Nippon would not pass the elevator door. Let him find that out for himself.
When the elevator arrived the boy did not open the door. He noted the derby on Hawksley's head.
“I can take you down, Miss Conover, but I cannot take Mr. Hawksley. When the boss gives me an order I obey it—if I possibly can. On the day the boss tells me you can go strolling, I'll give you the key to the city. Until then, nix! No use arguing, Mr. Hawksley.”