Part 37 (1/2)
”And you will have no chance now.” Vittoria tipped her chin the slightest bit.
”I must see you, alone.”
”Impossible!”
”To-night. You can slip away on some pretext or other. It is really important.”
She regarded him questioningly. ”If that is true I will try, but--I cannot meet you at Oliveta's house. Besides, you must not go into that quarter alone at night.”
”What do you mean?” he inquired, wondering how she could know of his danger.
”Because--no American is safe there now. Perhaps I can meet you on the street yonder.”
”I'll be waiting.”
”It may be late, unless I tell Myra Nell.”
”Heaven above! She'd insist on coming, too, just because it's forbidden.”
”Very well. Now go before you are discovered.”
During the afternoon his excitement increased deliciously, and that evening he found himself pacing the shaded street near the La Branche home, with the eager restlessness of a lover.
It was indeed late when Vittoria finally appeared.
”Myra Nell is such a chatterbox,” she explained, ”that I couldn't get her to bed. Have you waited long?”
”I dare say. I'm not sure.”
”This is very exciting, is it not?” She glanced over her shoulder up the ill-lighted street. Rows of shade trees cast long inky blots between the corner illuminations; the houses on either side sat well back in their yards, increasing the sense of isolation. ”It is quite a new experience for me.”
”For me, too.”
”I hope we're not seen. Signore Norvin Blake and a trained nurse! Oh, the comment!”
”There's a bench near by where we can sit. Pa.s.sers-by will take us for servants.”
”You are the butler, I am the maid,” she laughed.
”I am glad you can laugh,” he told her. ”You were very sad, there at Terranova.”
”I've learned the value of a smile. Life is full of gladness if we can only bring ourselves to see it. Now tell me the meaning of this. I knew it must be important or I would not have come.” Back of the bench upon which she had seated herself a jessamine vine depended, filling the air with perfume; the night was warm and still and languorous; through the gloom she regarded him with curiosity.
”I hate to begin,” he said. ”I dread to speak of unpleasant things--to you. I wish we might just sit here and talk of whatever we pleased.”
”We cannot sit here long on any account. But let me guess. It is your work against--those men.”
”Exactly. You know the history of our struggle with the Mafia?”
”Everything.”