"This then," she said, holding out her hand, "will be good-by for the present."
He held her fingers for a moment without reply. Quite suddenly she decided that she liked him. Then he lifted Graham, who was half asleep, half unconscious, to his feet, and assisted him from the car.
"Where shall I tell the man to go to?" he inquired.
"He knows," she answered with sudden taciturnity.
"Wherever it may be, then," he replied, "bon voyage!"
CHAPTER VI
It was about half-an-hour later when Sandy Graham opened his eyes and began to feel the life once more warm in his veins. He was seated in the most comfortable easy-chair of John Lutchester's bachelor sitting-room. By his side was a coffee equipage and a decanter of brandy. His head still throbbed, and his bones ached, but his mind was beginning to grow clearer. Lutchester, who had been seated at the writing table, swung round in his chair at the sound of his guest's movement.
"Feeling better, eh?" he asked.
"I am all right now," was the somewhat shaky reply. "Got a head like a turnip and a tongue like a lime-kiln, but I'm beginning—to feel myself."
"How's your memory?"