"Because your eyes are slate blue like your mother's. I loved your
mother, Kitty," said Cutty, blinking into his pipe. "And the
singular fact is, your father knew but your mother never did. I
was never able to tell your mother after your father died. Their
bodies were separated, but not their spirits."

Kitty nodded. So that was it? Poor Cutty!

"I make this confession because I want you to understand my attitude
toward you. I am going to elect myself as your special guardian so
long as I'm in New York. From now on, when I ask you to do
something, understand that I believe it best for you. If my
suspicions are correct we are not dealing with fools but with madmen.
The most dangerous human being, Kitty, is an honest man with a
half-baked or crooked idea; and that's what this world pother,
Bolshevism, is - honest men with crooked ideas, carrying the torch
of anarchism and believing it enlightenment. What makes them tear
down things? Every beautiful building is only a monument to their
former wretchedness; and so they annihilate. None of them actually
knows what he wants. A thousand will-o'-the-wisps in front of
them, and all alike. A thousand years to throw off the shackles,
and they expect Utopia in ten minutes! It makes you want to weep.
Socialism - the brotherhood of man - is a beautiful thing
theoretically; but it is like some plays - they read well but do not
act. Lopping off heads, believing them to be ideas!"

"The poor things!"

"That's it. Though I betray them I pity them. Democracy; slowly