and disliked him personally. She also felt uncomfortable with his ideas. But she had to concede he was a powerful speaker. âYes,â she answered, offering the plate of sandwiches to Lawrence. âDowntown, on William Street. Iâm afraid Iâm not acquainted with HerrMost, not enough to introduce you, at least. But if you like, I can take you to Schwabâs saloon on First Street. Youâll be welcomed there.â
Justus Schwabâs saloon was a famous center for radical politics in New York. Columbine was fond of Justus, who had a warmth and humor Johann Most completely lacked.
Lawrence sipped his tea and watched her. âI sense youâre not sympathetic to anarchism,â he said.
Columbine took a long sip of tea. âI am primarily a worker for womenâs rights,â she answered carefully. âNo, I donât agree with anarchist principles, especially the violent means that Bakunin proposes to demolish the state.â
âI donât agree with violent means either. But if the masses are to be galvanized, woken up ...â
âI donât believe,â Columbine said with a thin smile, âthat the masses are ever galvanized by violence, Mr. Birch. Iâm afraid it has just the opposite effect. It makes the government stronger, for it makes people simply afraid.â
âIt has not been successful in the United States as of yet, Mrs. Nash. Not that Iâm proposing it. But if the demolition of the stateâby peaceful meansâensures the emancipation of women, surely you couldnât argue against it.â
âIf I felt that anarchist men were any more interested in the emancipation of women, perhaps,â Columbine said pleasantly. âBut Mr. Birch, Iâve learned something from traveling in your circles. Men are men. If thereâs any hope for emancipation, it lies with women.â
Lawrence sipped his tea, obviously too polite to prolong the argument. âIt is a pleasure,â he said finally, âto find a woman who does at least consider these matters. I feel as though Iâve been drinking from a mountain spring, Mrs. Nash. San Francisco is rather a desert in that regard.â
âI find that difficult to believe.â Columbine sat erect. Nothing made her frostier than a manâs attempt to flatter her by denigrating her sex.
He seemed to sense her disapproval, but he merely shrugged. âMy fault, Iâm sure, as well as my misfortune. In my experience, the formidable minds belonged to men.â
âAsk Justus to introduce you to young Emma Goldman,â Columbine said lightly. âThere you will find a formidable mind.â
âI was speaking of San Francisco,â Lawrence said. âOf course in New York things will be different. They already are.â He flashed a smile at her. âWithin five minutes Iâve found someone to argue with. That is always a grand discovery, almost as precious as finding a friend. Itâs at least as good for the intellect as the soul. And when that someone is the famous Columbine Nash, my good fortune is doubled. Iâve admired you for years, Mrs. Nash. You are a brave and true soul.â
âThank you, Mr. Birch,â Columbine said confusedly.
Lawrenceâs smile held and his blue eyes warmed, and Columbine saw sensuality, and heat. The power of that smile was capable of stirring up a womanâs wild heart. No wonder he was so careful not to deliver it too often. Good Lord, she thought. No wonder Tavish sent him to me. He probably wanted to get him away from his wife.
Three
L AWRENCE B IRCH SETTLED into the small, cramped room off the kitchen as though it were a suite at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. The lumpy mattress felt like the softest down, and the worn sheets like fine linen. He had come through danger and found paradise: He had landed into a household of women.
He was a man that had been often called charming, but never by men. It was
Learning to Kill: Stories