"Picquot--I mean Signor Baskinelli, I propose nothing. Unless possibly there might be--after the reception--a little motor trip to Chinatown. It might amuse the ladies."
"You are right. I will invite them all," said Baskinelli.
"And how about calling up Marie at Cagliacci"s just as an old friend?"
"It might be best."
They moved together down the corridor and Owen directed their way to a little study secluded from all other apartments of the great house.
"You seem to be familiar with the home of our gracious hostess,"
remarked Baskinelli.
"I make it a rule to be familiar with all homes in which Miss Marvin is entertained."
"Miss Marvin? You are, then a relative?"
"I am her guardian."
"Ah-h! You have control--perhaps--of certain small sums bequeathed to her?"
"Yes."
"And you would like to have as few persons as possible in the Chinatown party?"
"As few as possible."
In a place known only as Cagliacci"s, in the dreg depths of Elizabeth street, the ringing of the telephone bell was much more startling, much more unusual than the crash of a pistol shot or the blast of a bomb.
The habitu"s moved quietly to the door that leads to the roofs, while Pietro Cagliacci himself wiped the dust-covered receiver on his ap.r.o.n and put it to his ear.
He spoke softly, tersely. The conversation was very brief. Within a minute after he had hung up the receiver three grimy-clad, grim-visaged men left the place silently.
Harry and Lucille came out of the conservatory.
"I tell you there wasn"t anything said between us that could have caused it," he was saying. "I was fighting the whole thing hard, but I was fighting it like a beggar. I am always a beggar with Pauline."
"But you told her it wasn"t right that she was risking other people"s lives?"
"No, I told you to tell her that."
In spite of her distress over Pauline"s coldness, Lucille burst into laughter.
They were just emerging into the music room. Pauline, like the others, turned at the unexpected sound. She gave one glance at the two and turned haughtily away.
Baskinelli was bustling about, making up an impromptu excursion party.
"Ha! You people of New York--you do not know what is in New York.
All Europe is here--and you never cross Fourteenth street--I mean to say Fifth avenue."
"It is more dangerous to cross Fifth avenue than to cross the ocean-- that"s probably the reason," said Harry. "The traffic cops along the Gulf Stream are so careful."
Pauline stopped Baskinelli"s intended reply. She wanted Harry to be ignored utterly. Her anger had made him flippant. His flippancy had put the seal of completeness upon her anger.
CHAPTER IX
BASKINELLI"S QUARRY
A flutter of polite alarm attended Signor Baskinalli"s invitation.
From the sheltered glitter of a Fifth avenue drawing room to Chinatown was a plunge a little too deep.
But Baskinelli was insistent and Pauline was his ardent and efficient recruiting officer. Quite a troop train of limousines carried the invaders to the uncelestial haunts of the Celestials.
Baskinelli rode in the car with Pauline and Owen. He had cast off the dignity of the master musician and a.s.sumed an air of whimsical recklessness. Harry and Lucille were in the following car.
"Oh, please stop fidgeting," exclaimed Lucille.
"I"m as nervous as you are."
"I know," said Harry, "but I hate to have her alone with that little black snake for five minutes."
"Owen is with them."
"Owen is worse."
The machines drew up in Chatham Square, and the little procession that moved across to Doyers street--dainty slippers on blackened cobblestones, light laughter tinkling under the thunder of the "L,"
human brightness brushing past the human shadows from the midnight dens --made contrasts picturesque as a pageant in a catacomb.
Pauline, on the arm of the chattering Baskinelli, led the way.
"Isn"t this splendid?" she exclaimed. "I am sure you won"t disappoint me, Signor Baskinelli. I hope you aren"t going to show us a happy Chinese family at supper. Only the most dreadful sights amuse me."
"Ali, but we, must not take risks," replied Baskinelli. "There are some beings in the world, Miss Marvin, so exquisitely precious that a man would commit sin if he placed them in peril."
"But only the worst and wickedest places," she admonished Baskinelli.
He leaned suddenly very near to her.
"Do you really mean that, Miss Marvin?" he asked.
"Indeed I do," she answered.
"Very well. But first we shall go to the new restaurant. It is yet too early for the worst and wickedest to be abroad or rather to seek their lairs."