Page:Scarface.pdf/175

 He observed that she seemed somewhat distrait to-night. Her hands fluttered nervously, little lines of concern wrinkled her forehead, and her glance kept wandering around as though she were looking for somebody yet hoping that she wouldn't see him.

"What'sa matter, baby?" asked Tony expan­sively.

"Nothing. I just don't feel very well."

"Aw, cheer up! Let's dance!"

They rose and moved out on the small, crowded floor, quite the handsomest couple in the place. Jane was a superb dancer and Tony, with his na­tive Latin grace and sense of rhythm, equally good. Nobody watching them would have dreamed that they both had killed, not in the heat of passion, but coolly and deliberately—for money; and that they would kill again whenever the occasion seemed to demand. And yet they were not murderers, ex­cept legally. In their own minds, they felt com­pletely justified for everything they had done. And their operation never had been and never would be the slightest menace to the general pub­lic. When they stalked with murderous intent, they invariably were after some certain person who "had it coming to him" and who would have