"
The outer door slammed--he had pretended not to hear her. She stood for
a moment looking after him; then she went into the bathroom among her
tragic unguents and began preparations for washing her hair.
Down at Sammy's he found Parker Allison and Pete Lytell sitting alone at
a table, drinking whiskey sours. It was just after six o'clock, and
Sammy, or Samuele Bendiri, as he had been christened, was sweeping an
accumulation of cigarette butts and broken glass into a corner.
"Hi, Tony!" called Parker Allison to Anthony. Sometimes he addressed him
as Tony, at other times it was Dan. To him all Anthonys must sail under
one of these diminutives.
"Sit down. What'll you have?"
On the subway Anthony had counted his money and found that he had almost
four dollars. He could pay for two rounds at fifty cents a drink--which
meant that he would have six drinks. Then he would go over to Sixth
Avenue and get twenty dollars and a pawn ticket in exchange for
his watch.
"Well, roughnecks," he said jovially, "how's the life of crime?"
"Pretty good," said Allison. He winked at Pete Lytell. "Too bad you're a
married man. We've got some pretty good stuff lined up for about eleven
o'clock, when the shows let out.
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