most choking with triumph. At last he had won; that glorious creature was about to become his―even if only for a month. But he meant to make things so pleasant that the arrangement would last much longer.
But he said nothing about it to Lovo when they met next morning. In the first place, it was a private matter and nobody else's business; and in the second, the gang leader was obviously preoccupied. Tony watched him pace nervously around the office, his unseeing gaze now on the ceiling, now on the floor, with a funny little sense of fright catching at his heart. What was troubling Lovo?
"I want to talk to you, Tony," said the other finally. "Sit down."
Tony took his place on the other side of the desk, feeling an odd sense of drama as though important events were about to transpire. Finally Lovo sat down himself in his big chair and lit another cigar.
"I've heard about your shooting up the florist shop the other night," he began.
"Yes?" said Tony uneasily. He wondered if he was to be sharply reprimanded.
"It was daring and all that but terribly dangerous. You must learn not to risk yourself like that."
"I—I'll try. But there's a lot of fun in pulling a job like that."
