Page 345 - tender-is-the-night

behind. It was a yellow, hazy morning; the squares and ar-
cades were crowded and Dick, pulling his hat low over his
head, walked fast, setting the pace, until one of the short-
legged carabinieri ran alongside and protested. Swanson
arranged matters.
‘I’ve disgraced you, haven’t I?’ said Dick jovially.
‘You’re liable to get killed fighting Italians,’ replied Swan-
son sheepishly. ‘They’ll probably let you go this time but if
you were an Italian you’d get a couple of months in prison.
And how!’
‘Have you ever been in prison?’
Swanson laughed.
‘I like him,’ announced Dick to Clay. ‘He’s a very like-
able young man and he gives people excellent advice, but
I’ll bet he’s been to jail himself. Probably spent weeks at a
time in jail.’
Swanson laughed.
‘I mean you want to be careful. You don’t know how
these people are.’
‘Oh, I know how they are,’ broke out Dick, irritably.
‘They’re god damn stinkers.’ He turned around to the cara-
binieri: ‘Did you get that?’
‘I’m leaving you here,’ Swanson said quickly. ‘I told your
sisterin-law I would—our lawyer will meet you upstairs in
the courtroom. You want to be careful.’
‘Good-by.’ Dick shook hands politely. ‘Thank you very
much. I feel you have a future—‘
With another smile Swanson hurried away, resuming his
official expression of disapproval.

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