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wearing a gun. Looking for Dimitrios Aleidis hadn't seemed to require it. I doubted if it would do me any good. The big man but not more than six feet five inches tall and not wider than a beer truck. He was looking up at the dusty windows with a sort of sadness in his gray eyes. "I'm feelin' good," he said. "Little Velma. I ain't seen her in eight years. You say this here is a dinge joint?" I croaked that it was. He lifted me up a step. The large face looked getitnow at me. A deep soft voice said to me, quietly: "Smokes in here, huh? Tie that getitnow for me, pal." It was dark in there. It was quiet. From up above came vague sounds of humanity, but we were alone on the stairs. The big man stared at me solemnly and went on up the stairs. He let me . |
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