the white moll-第32章

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then；　suddenly；　he　was　set　upon　and　hustled　into　a　room。　　It　was
the　White　Moll；　all　right；　and　the　shots　came　from　her　companion；
a　man　whom　he　described　minutely　…　the　description　being　that　of
the　Adventurer；　of　course。　　They　seemed　to　think　that　he；　Danglar；
was　a　plain…clothes　man；　and　tried　to　sicken　him　of　his　job　by
frightening　him。　　And　then　they　forced　him　through　the　window　and
down　the　fire　escape；　and　fastened　him　there　with　handcuffs　to
mock　the　police；　and　the　White　Moll's　companion　had　deliberately
fired　some　more　shots　to　make　sure　of　bringing　the　police　to　the
scene；　and　then　the　two　of　them　had　run　for　it。

Rhoda　Gray's　eyes　darkened　angrily。　　The　newspapers　said　that
Danglar　had　been　temporarily　held　by　the　police；　though　his　story
was　believed　to　be　true；　for　certainly　the　man　would　make　no　mistake
as　to　the　identity　of　the　White　Moll；　since　his　life；　what　the
police　could　find　out　about　it；　coincided　with　his　own　statements；
and　he　would　naturally　therefore　have　seen　her　many　times　in　the
Bad　Lands　when　she　was　working　there　under　cover　of　her　despicable
role　of　sweet　and　innocent　charity。　　Danglar　had　made　no　pretensions
to　self…righteousness　…　he　was　too　cute　for　that。　　He　admitted　that
he　had　no　〃specific　occupation；〃　that　he　hung　around　the　gambling
hells　a　good　deal；　that　he　followed　the　horses　…　that；　frankly；　he
lived　by　his　wits。　　He　had　probably　given　some　framed…up　address　to
the　police；　but；　if　so；　the　papers　had　not　stated　where　it　was。
Rhoda　Gray's　face；　under　the　grime　of　Gypsy　Nan's　disguise；　grew
troubled　and　perplexed。　　Neither　had　the　papers；　even　the　evening
papers；　stated　whether　Danglar　had　as　yet　been　released　…　they　had
devoted　the　rest　of　their　space　to　the　vilification　of　the　White
Moll。　　They　had　demanded　in　no　uncertain　tones　a　more　conclusive
effort　on　the　part　of　the　authorities　to　bring　her；　and　with　her
now　the　man　in　the　case；　as　they　called　the　Adventurer；　to
justice；　and。。。

The　thought　of　the　Adventurer　caused　her　mind　to　swerve　sharply　off
at　a　tangent。　　Where　he　had　piqued　and　aroused　her　curiosity　before；
he　now；　since　last　night；　seemed　more　complex　a　character　than　ever。
It　was　strange；　most　strange；　the　way　their　lives；　his　and　hers；　had
become　interwoven！　　She　had　owed　him　much；　but　last　night　she　had
repaid　him　and　squared　accounts。　　She　had　told　him　so。　　She　owed　him
nothing　more。　　If　a　sense　of　gratitude　had　once　caused　her　to　look
upon　him　with　…　with　…　　She　bit　her　lips。　　What　was　the　use　of　that？
Had　it　become　so　much　a　part　of　her　life；　so　much　a　habit；　this
throwing　of　dust　in　the　eyes　of　others；　this　constant　passing　of
herself　off　for　some　one　else；　this　constant　deception；　warranted
though　it　might　be；　that　she　must　now　seek　to　deceive　herself！　　Why
not　frankly　admit　to　her　own　soul；　already　in　the　secret；　that　she
cared　in　spite　of　herself　…　for　a　thief？　　Why　not　admit　that　a　great
hurt　had　come；　one　that　no　one　but　herself　would　ever　know；　a　hurt
that　would　last　for　always　because　it　was　a　wound　that　could　never
be　healed？

A　thief！　　She　loved　a　thief。　　She　had　fought　a　bitter；　stubborn
battle　with　her　common　sense　to　convince　herself　that　he　was　not
a　thief。　　She　had　snatched　hungrily　at　the　incident　that　centered
around　those　handcuffs；　so　opportunely　produced　from　the　Adventurer's
pocket。　　She　had　tried　to　argue　that　those　handcuffs　not　only
suggested；　but　proved；　he　was　a　police　officer　in　disguise；　working
on　some　case　in　which　Danglar　and　the　gang　had　been　mixed　up；　and；
as　she　tried　to　argue　in　this　wise；　she　tried　to　shut　her　eyes　to
the　fact　that　the　same　pocket　out　of　which　the　handcuffs　came　was
at　exactly　the　same　moment　the　repository　of　as　many　stolen
banknotes　as　it　would　hold。　　She　had　tried　to　argue　that　the　fact
that　he　was　so　insistently　at　work　to　defeat　Danglar's　plans　was　in
his　favor；　but　that　argument；　like　all　others；　came　quickly　and
miserably　to　grief。　　Where　the　〃leak〃　was；　as　Danglar　called　it；
that　supplied　the　Adventurer　with　foreknowledge　of　the　gang's
movements；　she　had　no　idea；　save　that　perhaps　the　Adventurer　and
some　traitor　in　the　gang　were　in　collusion　for　their　own　ends　…　and
that　certainly　did　not　lift　the　Adventurer　to　any　higher　plane；　or
wash　from　him　the　stigma　of　thief。

She　clenched　her　hands。　　It　was　all　an　attempt　at　argument　without
the　basis　of　a　single　logical　premise。　　It　was　silly　and　childish！
Why　hadn't　the　man　been　an　ordinary；　plain；　common　thief　and
criminal　…　and　looked　like　one？　　She　would　never　have　been　attracted
to　him　then　even　through　gratitude！　　Why　should　he　have　all　the
graces　and　ear…marks　of　breeding？　　Why　should　he　have　all　the
appearances　of　　gentleman？　　It　seemed　a　needlessly　cruel　and
additional　blow　that　fate　had　dealt　her；　when　already　she　was　living
through　days　and　nights　of　fear；　of　horror；　of　trepidation；　so　great
that　at　times　it　seemed　she　would　literally　lose　her　reason。　　If
he　had　not　looked；　yes；　and　at　times；　acted；　so　much　like　a
thorough…bred　gentleman；　there　would　never　have　come　to　her　this
hurt；　this　gulf　between　them　that　could　not　now　be　spanned；　and　in
a　personal　way　she　would　never　have　cared　because　he　was　…　a　thief。

Her　mental　soliloquy　ended　abruptly。　　She　had　reached　the　narrow
driveway　that　led　in；　between　the　two　blocks　of　down…at…the…heels
tenements；　to　the　courtyard　at　the　rear　that　harbored　Shluker's　junk
shop。　　And　now；　unlike　that　other　night　when　she　had　first　paid　a
visit　to　the　place；　she　made　no　effort　at　concealment　as　she　entered
the　driveway。　　She　walked　quickly；　and　as　she　emerged　into　the
courtyard　itself　she　saw　a　light　in　the　window　of　the　junk　shop。

Rhoda　Gray　nodded　her　head。　　It　was　still　quite　early；　still　almost
twilight　…　not　more　than　eight　o'clock。　　Back　there；　on　that　squalid
doorstep　where　the　old　woman　and　the　old　man　had　stood；　it　had　still
been　quite　light。　　The　long　summer　evening　had　served　at　least　to
sear；　somehow；　those　two　faces　upon　her　mind。　　It　was　singular　that
they　should　intrude　themselves　at　this　moment！　　She　had　been　thinking；
hadn't　she；　that　at　this　hour　she　might　naturally　expect　to　find
Shluker　still　in　his　shop？　　That　was　why　she　had　come　so　early　…　since
she　had　not　cared　to　come　in　full　daylight。　　Well；　if　that　light　meant
anything；　he　was　there。

She　felt　her　pulse　quicken　perceptibly　as　she　crossed　the　courtyard；
and　reached　the　shop。　　The　door　was　open；　and　she　stepped　inside。
It　was　a　dingy　place；　filthy；　and　littered；　without　the　slightest
attempt　at　order；　with　a　heterogeneous　collection　of；　it　seemed；
every　article　one　could　think　of；　from　scraps　of　old　iron　and　bundles
of　rags　to　cast…off　furniture　that　was　in　an　appalling　state　of
dissolution。　　The　light；　that　of　a　single　and　dim　incandescent；　came
from　the　interior　of　what　was　apparently　the　〃office〃　of　the
establishment；　a　small；　glassed…in　partition　affair；　at　the　far　end
of　the　shop。

Her　first　impression　had　been　that　there　was　no　one　in　the　shop；　but
now；　from　the　other　side　of　the　glass　partition；　she　caught　sight　of
a　bald　head；　and　became　aware　that　a　pair　of　black　eyes　were　fixed
steadily　upon　her；　and　that　the　occupant　was　beckoning　to　her　with
his　hand　to　come　forward。

She　scuffled　slowly；　but　without　hesitation；　up　the　shop。　　She
intended　to　employ　the　vernacular　that　was　part　of　the　disguise　of
Gypsy　Nan。　　If　Shluker；　for　that　was　certainly　Shluker　there；　gave
the　slightest　indication　that　he　took　it　amiss；　her　explanation　would
come　glibly　and　logically　enough　…　she　had　to　be　careful；　how　was　she
supposed　to　know　whether　there　was　any　one　else　about；　or　not！

〃'Ello！〃　she　said　curtly；　as　she　reached　the　doorway　of　the　little
office；　and　paused　on　the　threshold。　　Shifty　little　black　eyes　met
hers；　as　the　bald　head　fringed　with　untrimmed　gray　hair；　was　lifted
from　a　battered　desk；　and　the　wizened　face　of　an　old　man　was
disclosed　under　the　rays　of　the　tin…shaded　lamp。　　He　grinned　suddenly；
showing　discolored　teeth　…　and　instinctively　she　drew　back　a　little。
He　was　an　uninviting　and　exceedingly　disreputable　old　creature。

〃You；　eh；　Nan！〃　he　grunted。　　〃So　you've　come　to　see　old　Jake　Shluker；
have　you？　　'