“Yes”—was the quick, sympathetic answer.
The drooping figure shambled to a seat and dropped.
“Tell me—what has happened?” Virginia urged.
“You see the papers?”
“About the riots on the East Side—yes—the people were very foolish—”
The woman leaned close—her breath coming in deep quivering draughts.
“They kill my bambino—signorina! The shell tore his little heart all out—see! I bring the flag he wore—all red with blood. And now I come to you—you speak so grand, I want my revenge—”
She paused, strangled with emotion.
“I keep this flag and I love it too! I will kill and kill and kill! You will tell me how? They kill your father—they kill your brother—you tell me, Signorina! We fight now—you and me—we fight for this flag—is it not so?”
She held in her hand the blood-stained emblem.