"Here, your cap," I said, handing it to him. Our fingers met. He grasped mine until they pained me.
"Forgive me, Roger. I don't mean to be unkind. You're too good to me."
"Jerry, you fool!" I cried, my eyes wet.
He had started the machine and when I opened the door he moved slowly out.
"Good-by, old Dry-as-dust," he called with a wave of the hand and a rather sinister smile.
"For God's sake no drink, Jerry!" I whispered tensely.
"I promise," he said solemnly. "Good-by!"
And while I watched, he swept noiselessly around the drive and was soon lost in the blur of the trees below.
I walked slowly toward the terrace in the shadow of the trees, deep in bewilderment. What should I say to Una? Half unconsciously I glanced up at her window, the corner one over the terrace. Something white stirred and I thought I heard a sound, a faint sound, and then a strangling hush.