He stood up, still dizzy and blurry. Gabby tossed him clean shorts. He put them on and followed her to the kitchen where he drank coffee humbly and in a hushed voice reported what he remembered of his New Year's Eve ... the trip to Islip, his insane practical jokes ... he even blurted out all he remembered of his date with Olga Bleutcher, the body incarnate. Gabby was annoyed, the more so because his memory died at the point where the date with Olga began. She covered her chagrin with a laugh.
"The pigeons were a nuisance," she said, "But after the mothballs and the gelatine I got off lucky. You're a Monte Cristo, Jake."
"No," he insisted. "It wasn't revenge. I swear I was trying to spread sweetness and light." He looked at her for the first time with something like focus. "What happened to your right eye? It's all red."
"Caught cold in it last night," Gabby said briefly. "How did you manage to get rid of fatal Olga Bleutcher?"
"I don't know. We must have gone to parties. Probably I lost her somewhere."
"And before you lost her did you—" Gabby stopped.
"Did I what?"
"Nothing."
After a moment Lennox asked: "What time did I pick you up here?"
"Around midnight."