To-night I will win back my son or--"
"Or?" queried madam, tremblingly.
"Or Amos starts on his journey to hell. God, how my fingers itch to slay
him! The devil, the Jew devil!"
X--AT THE HOUSE OF AMOS
As Ahmed had advised, Gregorio settled himself patiently to await the
summons. Madam would have liked to ask him many questions, and to have
extracted a promise from him not to risk his life in any mad enterprise
his accomplice might suggest. But though the Greek's body seemed almost
lifeless, so quietly and immovably he rested on his chair, there was a
restless look in his eyes that told her how fiercely and irrepressibly
his anger burned. She knew enough of his race to know that no power on
earth could stop him striking for revenge. And she trembled, for
she knew also that directly he had begun to strike his madness would
increase, and that only sheer physical exhaustion would stay his hand.
Madam Marx was unhappy, and as she waited on her customers her eyes
rested continually on the Greek, who heeded her not. Once she carried
some wine to him, and he drank eagerly, spilling a few drops on the
floor first.
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