“I dare say, Mr. Solomon. By the way, I don’t want to hurry you, but it’s nearly half after two, and——”
“The deuce it is!” Vincent leaped to his feet and Ethan laughed loudly and cruelly. Vincent viewed him in amazement a moment and then joined.
“Talk about tagging!” chuckled Ethan.
“You haven’t seen her, you old scoffer,” responded his friend.
At a little after three Ethan tossed his luggage into the car, climbed in beside the unruffled Farrell and swung the big blue monster toward Boston. And while it ate up the long miles Ethan, his hands on the wheel, scowled miserably ahead and honestly strove to forget that he had ever stumbled into Arcady.
[XI.]
A few days later Ethan walked into the office of the law firm in Providence, hung his hat on a hook in the closet and blandly inquired for his desk. The members of the firm discussed it later in the privacy of the inner office.