"I--yes----"

"Shall we have tea together?"

He laughed. "But you've had yours----"

"Well, you know there are other things that one sometimes drinks."

There seemed no way out of it. They went into the tea-room together and seated themselves.

"How is Vanya?" he inquired.

"Vanya gives a concert to-night in Baltimore."

"And you didn't go!"

"No. It was rainy. Besides, I hear Vanya play when I desire to hear him."

Their order was served.

"So you wouldn't go to Baltimore," said Jim smilingly. "It strikes me, Marya, that you can be a coldblooded girl when you wish to be."

"After all, what do you know about me?"

He laughed: "Oh, I don't mean that I've got your number----"

"No. Because I have many numbers. I am a complicated combination," she added, smiling; "--yet after all, a combination only. And quite simple when one discovers the key to me."

"I think I know what it is," he said.

"What is it?"

"Mischief."

They laughed. Marya, particularly, was intensely amused. She was extremely fetching in her bicorne toque and narrow gown of light turquoise, and her golden beaver scarf and m.u.f.f.

"Mischief," she repeated. "I should say not. There seems to be already sufficient mischief loose in the world, with the red tide rising everywhere--in Russia, in Germany, Austria, Italy, England--yes, and here also the crimson tide of Bolshevism begins to move.... Tell me; you are coming to the club to-morrow evening, I hope."

"No."

"Oh. Why?"

"No," he repeated, almost sullenly. "I've had enough of queerness for a while----"

"Jim! Do you dare include me?"

He had to laugh at her pretence of fury: "No, Marya, you're just a pretty mischief-maker, I suppose----"

"Then what do you mean by 'queerness'? Don't you think it's sensible to combat Bolshevism and fight it with argument and debate on its own selected camping ground? Don't you think it is high time somebody faced this crimson tide--that somebody started to build a d.y.k.e against this threatened inundation?"

"The best d.y.k.es have machine guns behind them, not orators," he said bluntly.

"My friend, I have seen that, also. And to what have machine guns led us in Petrograd, in Moscow, in Poland, Finland, Courland--" She shrugged her pretty shoulders. "No. I have seen enough blood."

He said: "I have seen a little myself."

"Yes, I know. But a soldier is always a soldier, as a hound is always a hound. The blood of the quarry is what their instinct follows. Your goal is death; we only seek to tame."

"The proper way to check Bolshevism in America is to police the country properly, and kick out the outrageous gang of domestic Bolsheviki who have exploited us, tricked us, lied to us, taxed us unfairly, and in spite of whom we have managed to help our allies win this war.

"Then, when this petty, wretched, crooked bunch has been swept out, and the nation aired and disinfected, and when the burden of taxation is properly distributed, and business dares lift its head again, then start your debates and propaganda and try to educate your enemies if you like. But keep your machine guns oiled."

"You speak in an uncomplimentary fashion of government," said the girl, smiling.

"I am all for government. That does not mean that I am for the particular inc.u.mbents in office under the present Government. I have no use for them. Know that this war was won, not through them but in spite of them.

"Yet I place loyalty first of all--loyalty to the true ideals of that Government which some of the present inc.u.mbents so grotesquely misrepresent.

"That means, stand by the ship and the flag she flies, no matter who steers or what crew capers about her decks.

"That means, watch out for all pirates;--open fire on anything that flies a hostile flag, red or any other colour.

"And that's my creed, Marya!"

"To shoot; not to debate?"

"An inquest is safer."

"We shall never agree," said the girl, laughing. "And I'm rather glad."

"Why?"

"Because disagreements are more amusing than any _entente cordiale_, _mon ami_. It is the opposing forces that never bore each other. In life, too--I mean among human beings. Once they agree, interest lessens."

"Nonsense," he said, smiling.

"Oh, it is quite true. Behold us. We don't agree. But I am interested,"

she added with pretty audacity; "so please take me to dinner somewhere."

"You mean now, as we are?"

"Parbleu! Did you wish to go home and dress?"

"I don't care if you don't," he said.

"Suppose," she suggested, "we dine where there is something to see."

"A Broadway joint?" he asked, amused.