Avery looked across at the wincing leaves on the trees of the Park. The tower of the Church of the Happy Saints showed black against the sky. The club was only around the corner, and he was glad of it, for the night felt unpleasantly cold to him; he shivered as he entered the hot, bright, luxurious place; it was heavy with tobacco; the click of billiard-balls and the clink of a glass sounded to his ear with a curious distinctness above the laughter and the chat with which the house seemed to rock and echo.
Romer was there—Tom Romer; and he was uncommonly glad to see Avery. The two gentlemen, with Armstrong and another man, grouped upon a game of billiards. Romer proposed whist, but Armstrong said it was too late for whist. Avery did not say anything, and he played stupidly, and after a while asked to be excused, and got up to go home.
"You 're looking fagged," observed Tom Romer, knocking the ashes from his cigar artistically. "You 're overworked. Most of you professional chaps are. Come yachting with me, on the Dream. We 're going to the Sound after ducks. Back in a week. Start at seven o'clock to-morrow morning. Stay and put up here, and get off with me. Oh! I forgot. You 're one of those married men."
"Yes," replied Avery, with a consciousness of superior virtue. "I could n't go without saying good-by to my wife. I wouldn't think of it for a moment," he added loftily. "Give me a minute, Romer, to think it over, will you?"
He strolled to the window, and looked out at the waters of the black river which rushed whirling past the rear of the clubhouse. It occurred to him that Armstrong watched him anxiously. But Armstrong did not speak.
"I 'll go—thanks!" said Avery, coming back, with his hands in his pockets. "I 'll get word to the office; they can manage without me, somehow—that is, if you 'll promise to get me back in a week?"
"I 'll set you ashore at the back yard of this club six days from to-morrow," answered Romer. "The Dream 's a dandy," added the yachtsman, swelling a little. "She can do it."
Avery replied absently, and hurriedly started for home. In fact, he ran most of the way (Dr. Armstrong could not keep up with him), for he was shocked to find that it was now one o'clock.
"Poor Jean!" he thought; "I stayed too long." Then he remembered for the first time that he had got to tell Jean that he was going. It occurred to him for a moment that he would rather give up going with Romer than tell Jean. But it was now too late to do that.
"You see," he said, stopping for Armstrong to overtake him, "I 've got to go, now." But Armstrong did not reply; he turned in at his own house with a manner which his friend felt to be superfluous. Avery experienced a certain resentment against the dentist. He was relieved to be alone, and walked more slowly.