She turned from Denson and Goudy and walked to her window, gazing out at the roofs reaching away and away under the moon, below which some of the millions slept, who would be—at the word of these men and of the Mr. Clarke who was coming for the State—against Ket and her for Ket's life!
At the word of these men, and of Mr. Clarke who was coming, they would take away the boy downstairs, who had been the son of a manicurist and had of himself picked up enough about music from the hotel orchestra so that he could play and compose what the millions of people liked.
How they clapped and cheered him when he played! How they thrust money and popularity upon him; how they had praised and flattered him! And how they would turn upon him at the mere word of these three men here, and, in the name of the people of Illinois, take his life!
With these three, Joan Daisy knew she could do nothing. Their minds were made up. But the man who was coming for the State, Mr. Clarke, evidently was a superior officer. At least, the three were awaiting him before carrying Ket and her away.
Probably it was only a formal delay before taking Ket and her to jail. But it was no time to rest, particularly when Denson wanted her to rest.
She gazed at her bed and recollection of her dream of Ket flashed before her; and she turned again to Denson with head up for the fight.
