“Why this solicitude for the relatives—you’re not going——?”
As he spoke, as if anticipating a question, the old man was nodding his head with feverish energy, and all the while his grin broadened.
“What a one you are for long words, Jimmy! You always was. That’s how you managed to persuade your swell pals to come an’ try their luck. Solicitude! What’s that mean? Frettin’ about ’em, d’ye mean? Yes, that’s what I’m doin’—frettin’ about ’em. And I’m going to make, what d’ye call it—you had it on the tip of your tongue a minute or two ago?”
“Reparation?” suggested Jimmy.
Old Reale nodded delightedly.
“How?”
“Don’t you ask questions!” bullied the old man, his harsh voice rising. “I ain’t asked you why you broke into my house in the middle of the night, though I knew it was you who came the other day to check the electric meter. I saw you, an’ I’ve been waitin’ for you ever since.”
“I knew all about that,” said Jimmy calmly, and flicked the ash of his cigarette away with his little finger, “and I thought you would——”
Suddenly he stopped speaking and listened.
“Who’s in the house beside us?” he asked quickly, but the look on the old man’s face reassured him.