They sat in silence for a few moments, Hanson giving Mrs. Gallito an
opportunity to recover her self-control, while he devoted his attention
to Lolita, who had sidled up to him and was gazing at him evilly, ready
to nip him malevolently should he attempt the familiarity of scratching
her head.
Mrs. Gallito, alive to the courtesies of the occasion, had succeeded in
choking back her sobs, and now she endeavored to turn the conversation
into less personal channels. "Bob Flick got back yesterday."
"Where's he been traveling?" asked the manager easily. "He can't have
gone so very far, hasn't been gone long enough."
Mrs. Gallito leaned forward carefully. "He's been to Colina and, Mr.
Hanson, I think his trip had something to do with you. Him and Gallito
talked late last night. I tried my best to hear what they were saying,"
naively, "but I couldn't for a long while, and then Gallito said out
loud: 'Who's going to tell her, you or me?'
"And Bob kind of waited a minute and then he said: 'Me. You'd only stir
her up and make her obstinate. But, God!' he said, sighing awful heavy,
'I wish I didn't have to.'"
"I'll bet he does," muttered Hanson, and throwing back his head laughed
aloud.
She looked at him doubtfully, as if surprised at his manner of receiving
her information. "Is it funny?" she asked.
"Not for Bob," still vindictively amused.
"I suppose something's gone wrong with her contract with Sweeney, and he
can hold her to it, or else have the law on her," ventured Mrs.
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