rhisbrainwanderedtheagonydidnotseemsogreat.NotallGino’scarecouldindefinitelypostponetheend.Hisyellsandgurglesbecamemechanical—functionsofthetorturedfleshratherthantruenotesofindignationanddespair.Hewasconsciousofahorridtumbling.Thenhisarmwaspulledalittletooroughly,andeverythingwasquietatlast.
“Butyoursonisdead,Gino.Yoursonisdead,dearGino.Yoursonisdead.”
Theroomwasfulloflight,andMissAbbotthadGinobytheshoulders,holdinghimdowninachair.Shewasexhaustedwiththestruggle,andherarmsweretrembling.
“Whatisthegoodofanotherdeath?Whatisthegoodofmorepain?”
Hetoobegantotremble.ThenheturnedandlookedcuriouslyatPhilip,whoseface,coveredwithdustandfoam,wasvisiblebythestove.MissAbbottallowedhimtogetup,thoughshestillheldhimfirmly.Hegavealoudandcuriouscry—acryofinterrogationitmightbecalled.BelowtherewasthenoiseofPerfettareturningwiththebaby’smilk.
“Gotohim,”saidMissAbbott,indicatingPhilip.“Pickhimup.Treathimkindly.”
Shereleasedhim,andheapproachedPhilipslowly.Hiseyeswerefillingwithtrouble.Hebentdown,asifhewouldgentlyraisehimup.
“Help!help!”moanedPhilip.HisbodyhadsufferedtoomuchfromGino.Itcouldnotbeartobetouchedbyhim.
Ginoseemedtounderstand.Hestopped,crouchedabovehim.MissAbbottherselfcameforwardandliftedherfriendinherarms.
“Oh,thefouldevil!”hemurmured.“Killhim!Killhimforme.”
MissAbbottlaidhimtenderlyonthecouchandwipedhisface.Thenshesaidgravelytothemboth,“Thisthingstopshere.”
“Latte!latte!”criedPerfetta,hilariouslyascendingthestairs.
“Remember,”shecontinued,“thereistobenorevenge.Iwillhavenomoreintentionalevil.Wearenottofightwitheachotheranymore.”
“Ishallneverforgivehim,”sighedPhilip.
“Latte!lattefreschissima!biancacomeneve!”Perfettacameinwithanotherlampandalittlejug.
Ginospokeforthefirsttime.“Putthemilkonthetable,”hesaid.“Itwillnotbewantedintheotherroom.”The