Carmella Commands
She chuckled to think that at no moment of the evening had she been weak enough to mention Mrs. Alibrio’s name. But she fell asleep knowing that she should always, always hate Mrs. Alibrio.
Tommaso, too, thought long before he slept. Carmella had scored when she pointed out factors that he had overlooked. Mr. Barrington wanted action—prompt and fast. He, Tommaso, had thought of it in terms of man-power, and of that he was sure. But the equipment he had overlooked. Tomorrow was Sunday. He could do much before Monday morning, with eight thousand dollars in the bank, and Carmella to help.
But Carmella! Should he call on her? He had resolved to ignore her for a week or two. Yet tonight she had been most devoted. She had been, in fact, fascinating. Perhaps he had wronged her by leaving her out. Maria, her mother, he loved. At least he had loved her in Italy. Since coming to this new country he had been almost too busy to love. But Maria, even in her youth, had never been like that.
What a wife Carmella would be for some nice young Italian boy! He fell asleep.
Through all the Sunday that followed Tommaso was busy, arranging for workers and equipment and for Luigi’s truck, with Luigi to drive. He dealt with his own people, and Carmella languished for interpreting to do.
Nicolo called from across the street, and asked her to
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