"And you think I have," Duran returned, seating himself.
"I know you do. Unfortunately I happen to share them to some extent."
He paused to relight the stub of a cigar, then went on.
"It's a crazy world we live in, Vance. Things change. Sometimes it's hard for us adults to keep up with it. The kids seem to, though."
Duran tried to appear suavely bored with the other's musings. But in spite of himself he could sense his gaze becoming intently expectant. Whatever connection there might be between himself, Ambly, and Duff completely eluded him. And that elusive connection had aroused his curiosity.
"Yeah, they keep up with things, all right," Loeffler went on. "And sometimes they get some pretty big ideas."
He halted, puffed thoughtfully, then barked:
"Remember Mel Skinner's lodge out on that island in Wakataoga Lake? Big Spanish-style place. Built it for that wife of his he brought back from Chile or somewhere."
"Yes, I remember it. Molly and I spent a weekend there a couple of years ago. Why?" the senator asked, realizing more than ever how much he disliked Sigmund Loeffler. "What are you getting at?"
"Well, the next time you go you'd better take along some sleeping bags," said Loeffler. "Because the house isn't there anymore."