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Updated: June 26, 2025
The whole constellation of Albano's shining past had gone down below the horizon, and only one bright star of all the group stood glimmering still above the earth Idoine. After the solemn service, Idoine addressed herself to him oftener; her sweet voice was more tender, though more tremulous; her maidenly shyness of the resemblance to Liana seemed conquered or forgotten.
"Imagine that you are sitting at a table in Albano's back room," was all he said. "This is what you would be hearing. This is my 'electric ear' in other words the dictograph, used, I am told, by the Secret Service of the United States. Wait, in a moment you will hear Gennaro come in. Luigi and Vincenzo, translate what you hear. My knowledge of Italian is pretty rusty."
We opened the ginger ale and forced ourselves to drink it so as to excite no suspicion, then a few minutes later descended the stairs of the tenement, coming out just above Albano's. I was wondering how Kennedy was going to get into Albano's again without exciting suspicion. He solved it neatly. "Now, Walter, do you think you could stand another dip into that red ink of Albano's?"
He could mimic Albano's writing and voice; he knew of Linda's night-blindness. On the next night, in the presence of Albano and Linda, he slew himself with his own hand. The death of Roquairol lay like a blight between the lovers. They parted for ever. III. Idoine "War!" This word alone gave Albano peace.
We opened the ginger ale and forced ourselves to drink it so as to excite no suspicion, then a few minutes later descended the stairs of the tenement, coming out just above Albano's. I was wondering how Kennedy was going to get into Albano's again without exciting suspicion. He solved it neatly. "Now, Walter, do you think you could stand another dip into that red ink of Albano's!"
We passed Albano's on the other side of the street, being careful not to look at it too closely, for several men were hanging idly about pickets, apparently, with some secret code that would instantly have spread far and wide the news of any alarming action.
I could see that Kennedy had made up his mind as to his course of action. "How sordid crime really is," he remarked as we walked on down the street. "Look at that place of Albano's. I defy even the police news reporter on the Star to find any glamour in that."
He's asking the gruff-voiced fellow if he will have another bottle of wine. He says he will. Good. They must be at Prince Street now we'll give them a few minutes more, not too much, for word will be back to Albano's like wildfire, and they will get Gennaro after all. Ah, they are drinking again. What was that, Luigi? The money is all right, he says? Now, Vincenzo, out with the lights!"
We sat in the little dining-room until we heard the door of the limousine bang shut and the car shoot off with the rattle of the changing gears. "One more question, Luigi," said Craig as the door opened again. "I have never been on that block in Mulberry Street where this Albano's is. Do you happen to know any of the shopkeepers on it or near it?"
Albano's dream was fulfilled; he loved Liana in realty as he had loved her in imagination. Roquairol thought he loved Rabette; in truth, her simplicity was to this experienced conqueror of feminine hearts but a new and, for the moment, overmastering sensation.
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