“He’s gone away.”
“Where’s he gone?”
Philip told him, and, after a silence, Sokoleff said, “I suppose he had to beat it. I suppose he had to ... but what are we gonna do ... the ones that’s left. He’s the only one with a brain. The rest of us ain’t good for nothin’. We ain’t even got money to get drunk on.”
“He won’t forget you.”
“Oh, it’s all right for him. He ain’t got nobody ... no children or a wife. He ain’t even got a girl ... now.”
For a moment the single word “now,” added carelessly after a pause, meant nothing to Philip, and then suddenly a terrible suspicion took possession of him. He looked at Sokoleff. “What d’you mean ... now?”
“Ain’t you heard it?”
“It was his girl, Giulia ... that was killed last night.”
Philip felt sick. In a low voice he asked, “And he didn’t know it?”