I sat back. “Well, that don’t get me very far,” I said. “I was hoping to tie that dame down.”
Kennedy glanced at the clock. “You’ll have to be on the move or you’ll lose your train.”
I beckoned the waiter for the bill. Kennedy said hastily, “I’ll pay that.”
I shook my head. “I’ve just sold a book, Colonel. I guess it’s a nice experience to buy a guy, with all the dough you’ve got, a lunch.”
Kennedy laughed. “I’m glad you’ve settled down, Nick. But you’re not to hide yourself away. You must bring your wife up to town.”
I took out my wallet and found a ten-dollar bill which I gave to the waiter. A photo of Mardi was amongst my papers, and I flipped it across to Kennedy. “That’s my wife, Kennedy—you’ll think she’s a grand girl when you meet her.”
I took the change from the waiter and gave him a buck for himself. Then I turned to see what Kennedy was making of Mardi. He was sitting staring at me, his face a little white and his eyes like granite.
I said, “What’s wrong?”
He said in a hard voice, “What’s the idea, Mason?”
I stared at him. “You gone screwy, Colonel?”