Carmella Commands
“She ain’t such-a-much,” said Nicolo. “I been finding out about her. She’s a flop, and you know it.”
“She’s a lady you don’t talk about like that,” said Carmella, and swung a heavy hand across Nicolo’s mouth.
“Dannato!” he exclaimed, holding his hand over his jaw. “Where do you get that stuff, kid?”
“Never mind where I get it. You watch it.”
Carmella turned and walked into her home, reading last evening’s paper through twice while she waited.
Promptly at twelve-thirty the Barrington sedan, with Dixon at the wheel, drove up to the yellow gateway. If Dixon had a vice, it was that of punctuality. Sometimes he waited around the corner for a full quarter-hour, in order to drive up on the instant of the appointed time. It was as much a matter of principle with him not to appear early as not to appear late. Her friends often complimented Mrs. Barrington on the possession of Dixon.
This was a real compliment, for when she had first engaged him, Dixon had not been such a paragon of promptness. Mrs. Barrington had trained him, since her husband would not. But Dixon now believed that he had always been as punctual. And, having been trained, he liked it.
Prompt as was the chauffeur, Carmella was waiting for him. She had been at the front window for about the same period that he had been parked around the corner.
[74]
