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"Where does he live,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], Otto?"
"He has an estate near Jackson Square, but it won't help to go there, Tracy,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], believe me."
Tracy did not answer. She was filled with an emotion totally unfamiliar to her: hatred. Joe Romano is going to pay for killing my mother, Tracy swore to herself.
She needed time. Time to think, time to plan her next move. She could not bear to go back to the despoiled house,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], so she hecked into a small hotel on Magazine Street, far from the French Quarter,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], where the mad parades were still going on. She had no luggage,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and the suspicious clerk behind the desk said, "You'll have to pay in advance. That'll be forty dollars for the night."
From her room Tracy telephoned Clarence Desmond to tell him she would be unable to come to work for a few days.
He concealed his irritation at being inconvenienced. "Don't worry about it,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]," he told Tracy. "I'll find someone to fill in until you return." He hoped she would remember to tell Charles Stanhope how understanding he had been.
Tracy's next call was to Charles. "Charles,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], darling---"
"Where the devil are you, Tracy? Mother has been trying to reach you all morning. She wanted to have lunch with you today. You two have a lot of arrangements to go over."
"I'm sorry, darling. I'm in New Orleans."
"You're where? What are you doing in New Orleans?"
"My mother--- died." The word stuck in her throat.