‘Yeah. He told me to come to you.’
‘Oh, my dear child!’ She came running back and I thought for a second she was going to pick me up or something, but she stopped short and wrinkled up her nose a little bit. ‘Wh-what’s your name?’
‘Gerry,’ I told her.
‘Well, Gerry, how would you like to live with me in this nice big house and—and have new clean clothes—and everything?’
‘Well, that’s the whole idea. Lone told me to come to you. He said you got more dough than you know what to do with, and he said you owed him a favour.’
‘A favour?’ That seemed to bother her.
‘Well,’ I tried to tell her, ‘he said he done something for you once and you said some day you’d pay him back for it if you ever could. This is it.’
‘What did he tell you about that?’ She’d got her honk back by then.
‘Not a damn thing.’
‘Please don’t use that word,’ she said, with her eyes closed. Then she opened them and nodded her head. ‘I promised and I’ll do it. You can live here from now on. If-if you want to.’