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Updated: June 26, 2025
What was more remarkable, Mrs. Minetti was a Socialist also; that meant a great deal to a man, as Jerry explained, because she was not under the domination of a priest. Hal made the move at once, sacrificing part of a month's board, which Reminitsky would charge against his account with the company. But he was willing to pay for the privilege of a clean home and clean food.
"I told ye once," laughed the girl "the good old pertaties is good enough for me!" "And you remember," said he, "what I answered?" Yes, she remembered! Her cheeks took on the colour of the rose-leaves he had specified as her probable diet. And then the Rafferty children, who had got to know Hal well, joined in the teasing. "Mister Minetti! Lika da spagetti!"
Suvaroff was lying upon his bed. His face was turned toward the wall. He did not trouble to look at Minetti. "I cannot leave. You know that as well as I do. When I am absent from this room I am in a fever until I get back to it again. I lie here and close my eyes and think.... Whenever a thud shakes the house I leap up, trembling. I have not worked for five days.
In half an hour it would be supper-time, and the feeders would gather in Reminitsky's dining-room. He would give his message there! Hal's two companions were puzzled that he passed the Zamboni cabin, where presumably the Zamboni brood were being cared for by neighbours. But he let them make what they could of this, and went on to the Minetti home.
Among those who came to attend the festivities was the children's uncle, Pietro Minetti. Andrea and Maria were wild with delight when they heard he was coming, and speculated much as to their rich uncle, for, of course, he must be rich as every one was out in the great world.
Jerry Minetti had been there that morning, and MacKellar at his request had telephoned to the office of the union in Sheridan, and ascertained that Jack David had brought word about the strike on the previous evening. All parties had been careful not to mention names, for "leaks" in the telephone were notorious, but it was clear who the messenger had been.
The three women and Suvaroff looked up. Flavio Minetti stood in the doorway. The three women gave the hunchback swift, inclusive glances, such as women always use when they measure a newcomer, and speedily dropped their eyes. Suvaroff stared silently at the warped figure. Minetti leaned against the door; his smile was at once both cruel and curiously touching. At length Minetti spoke.
He rose in his seat, and suddenly quite suddenly, without warning he began to laugh.... The shadow halted in its flight across the wall. Suvaroff circled the room with his gaze. In the center of the wine-shop stood Flavio Minetti. Suvaroff sat down. He was still shaking with laughter. Presently Suvaroff was conscious that Minetti had disappeared. The fire in his brain had ceased to burn.
One may even learn to laugh at the picture of one's thoughts. But to laugh at a soul No! A man's soul is too dreadful a thing to laugh at." He staggered out into the night. On his way home he went into a pawn-shop and bought a pistol. He was in a fever to get back to his lodgings. He found Minetti waiting for him. He tried to conceal the pistol, but he knew that Minetti had seen it.
Minetti was as pleasant as one could imagine. He told the most droll stories of his life in London. It appeared that he had lived there in a hotbed of exiled radicals; but he, himself, seemed to have no convictions. Everything he described was touched with a certain ironic humor. When he rose to go he said, quite simply: "How are things? Do you sleep nights now?" "No.
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