“Huh, huh,” I said. I wasn’t going to commit myself.
He finished up the Scotch, fidgeted with the glass, and scowled out of the window at the boys sitting on the grass about two hundred yards away. I didn’t hurry him.
“You know how it is,” he began, still looking out of the window.
“Sure,” I said to encourage him.
“I was crazy to have anything to do with this woman,” he said. “She’s got big connections. There’ll be a devil of a scandal if anything leaks out, and she can’t afford that, nor can I.”
I took his glass and mine and filled them up. The vices of the upper crust always interested me. I’d got enough inferior complexes for rich folk to think they always did their vices so much better than I did mine. I guess it was just a complex, because I’ve thought about it a great deal, and I never really could think how they did it better than I, but that was maybe because I hadn’t enough imagination.
“I’ve got to get her out of this place, and I don’t know how the blazes I’m going to do it.”
I nearly spilt the liquor. “You mean she’s still here?” I said.
He twisted his head and looked at me. “Of course she is,” he said, showing a little of his old temper. “Why do you think I’m sitting here, letting those fellows make a monkey out of me?”
“Okay, Colonel,” I said. “I didn’t get it. The jam is getting the lady away without the boys seein’ her; that it?”