They pushed back their chairs, wormed a way through the packed tables, got into their wraps, and stepped out of the swinging doors into long streamers of watery lamplight. The douche of a cold rain received them.
"Oh, dear—the Housetop, then!" Nona grumbled. How sweet the rain would have been under the budding trees of Cedarledge! But here, in these degraded streets...
Heuston caught a passing taxi. "A turn, first—just round the Park?"
"No; the Housetop."
He leaned back and lit a cigarette. "You know I'm going to get myself divorced: it's all settled," he announced.
"Settled—with Aggie?"
"No: not yet. But with the lady I'm going off with. My word of honour. I am; next week."
Nona gave an incredulous laugh. "So this is good-bye?"
"Very nearly."
"Poor Stan!"