The Black Pearl by Nancy Mann Waddel Woodrow
page 73 of 306 (23%)
page 73 of 306 (23%)
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lot, and I thought that was what was going to happen, but it didn't. I
often wonder what he married me for. But," her voice was poignant with wistfulness, "I would have liked to have been loved, I would." Hanson nodded understandingly and without speaking, this time, an expression of real sympathy in his eyes. She was weak and silly. She was dyed and painted and powdered almost to the point of being grotesque, and yet, in voicing the universal longing, she became real, and human, and touching. They sat in silence for a few moments, Hanson giving Mrs. Gallito an opportunity to recover her self-control, while he devoted his attention to Lolita, who had sidled up to him and was gazing at him evilly, ready to nip him malevolently should he attempt the familiarity of scratching her head. Mrs. Gallito, alive to the courtesies of the occasion, had succeeded in choking back her sobs, and now she endeavored to turn the conversation into less personal channels. "Bob Flick got back yesterday." "Where's he been traveling?" asked the manager easily. "He can't have gone so very far, hasn't been gone long enough." Mrs. Gallito leaned forward carefully. "He's been to Colina and, Mr. Hanson, I think his trip had something to do with you. Him and Gallito talked late last night. I tried my best to hear what they were saying," naïvely, "but I couldn't for a long while, and then Gallito said out loud: 'Who's going to tell her, you or me?' "And Bob kind of waited a minute and then he said: 'Me. You'd only stir |
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