Carmella Commands
had involved finance hardly more than the price of a dress or a suit of clothes. Now she was dealing in thousands. Not merely as agent but, unknown to any but herself, as a decisive factor. At thirteen, one is perhaps entitled to the thrill of dominance. Some, indeed, never pass that stage of youth.
For an instant she hesitated at Mr. Hastings’ demand for the deed. She had seen important papers torn up, to turn the tide of a heroine’s fortunes on the screen. But she remembered Dixon on the front seat. From the angle of his head she knew that he was listening. He would make a witness if any desperate work were tried. And so, constructing a sprightly melodrama as she went along, she told Tommaso to let Mr. Hastings see the deed.
The latter nodded as he examined the paper, and presently handed it back to Carmella, who passed it to her father.
“All right,” he said, speaking to the girl. “We’ve had the title examined in advance, along with our own land. We’ll be through in ten minutes after we get to the town clerk’s office out here.”
“Have you got the money—eight thousand dollars?” asked Carmella, sceptically.
“Certainly! Certified check.”
Mr. Hastings showed it to her. To her inexperienced eyes it looked like a check that had been cancelled.
“What is certified?” she demanded.
[103]
