CHAPTER IX
THE GATTO FRITTO
Ir was about the end of the third week, I discover
from Lou’s Diary (I had lost all count of time myself),
that he came in one day with a smile of subtle triumph
in his eyes.
“ T’ve got on to the ropes,” he said, ‘‘ but I think I
ought in fairness to warn you that the Gatto Fritto is
a pretty hot place. I wouldn’t mind taking you as long
as you go in disguise and have a gun in your pocket,
~but I really can’t take it on my conscience to have
Lady Pendragon along.”’
I was so full up with cocaine I hardly knew what
he was saying. It was the easiest way out to nod assent
and watch the clouds fighting each other to get hold
of the sun.
I was betting on that big white elephant on the
horizon. There were two black cobras and a purple
hippopotamus against him; but I couldn’t help that.
With those magnificent tusks he ought to be able to
settle their business, and only to look at his legs you
could see the old sun hadn’t got a dog’s chance. I
can’t see why people haven’t the sense to keep still
when a fight of this kind is in progress. What’s the
referee for, anyway?
It was extremely annoying of Lou to protest in that
passionate shrill voice of hers that she was going to
the Gatto Fritto, and if she didn’t she’d take to
keeping cats herself, and fry them, and make me eat
them|
I don’t know how long she went on. It was perfectly
gorgeous to hear her. I knew what it. meant just as
soon as we could get rid of that swine Feccles.
115