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The orchestra Chico Morani, a mere Dago bohunk himself, had organised among the men, burst afresh. And every other sound ceased. Even the gambling groups out before the camp paused to listen. "Morani's started on the second number, Tressa. Thank Heaven he has one redeeming feature, if he is a Wop." "This isn't your loving night, daddy. It must be my cooking "
"Boss think-a me there," he sneered. "Boss easy guy. Morani's orchestra, he say. Morani here." He struck himself dramatically on the chest. "Not so easy maybe, boss ain't," Koppy shook a doubting head. "Big and strong and and thick here," touching his head. "Maybe I don't know."
"Morani's giving us more than our money's worth to-night," he muttered, during a pause in the reading. "It should be made a law that every dirty bohunk had to join an orchestra, so a fellow could keep an ear on 'em when he can't see 'em. They're not likely to do much harm with a tin whistle between their lips." "It's a beastly quiet night," he complained, when Conrad paused to light the lamp.
Signora Martina, his wife, was a good soul, and, though a strict housewife, was yet not so thrifty but that she could allow a little of her abundance to overflow on those in her service; and these crumbs from her table added many delicious bits to the bean-flour repasts. So, as we have said, happy the mountain girls taken into Dr. Morani's service!
"Five men will do," said Koppy. "Five men's six too many," grumbled Werner. "Why d'you pick yours truly for all the soft jobs?" "You are honoured. Only three of you " "I'll give up my share of the honour to Morani's; he's fair bubbling for a chance to wipe out the miss he made with his dirk the other night. I'm not a bit resentful. I don't care if I never see the boss again.
"Just let me fire the first shot, that's all I want," babbled Werner, reading the disfavour under which he rested. "I'll blow the whole bunch to hell." Morani's long knife passed slickly back and forth on the side of his boot; and they watched with staring eyes.
But I guess you're right you're always right, Koppy. We got to do things in the dark, till we get the Labour Unions at our back. But they're a glass of water when it comes to the real thing." With an imperceptible movement Morani's knife was out again, swishing back and forward across his palm with a low hissing sound. And every eye was rivetted on it.
Of the few paintings nothing is very remarkable, though Bazzani's "Arch of Septimus Severus" is interesting for its workmanship. Room 24 presents extremely varied styles from Morani's No. 80 to Domenico Irolli's heavily painted "Violin Player" , and Enrico Lionne's gorgeous purple figures in the extreme of Impressionism.
Torrance lounged round the corner of the table that separated them, but Werner had eyes only for Morani's hidden hand. " have decided that we must be freed from the yoke of bondage. We demand the right to control ourselves, under our own leaders " He saw the wall of the room rush toward him felt it strike him dizzy; and he lay wondering what had happened.
An overwhelming sense of hopelessness, of friendlessness, sent him cringing to Morani's feet. The Italian, gloating, leaned forward and prodded with the stiletto. Werner, beside himself now with terror, leaped up and ran a few yards. But the smirking face of the Italian followed. In that direction lay speedy death. Trembling, Werner sank to his knees like a whipped dog.
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