The next morning they took breakfast on the tiny terrace of a restaurant overlooking Bryant Park, where, during the first days of their honeymoon, they had always breakfasted. For sentimental reasons they now revisited it. But Dolly was eager to return at once to the flat and pack, and Carter seemed distraught. He explained that he had had a bad night.
“I’m so sorry,” sympathized Dolly, “but to-night you will have a fine sleep going up the Sound. Any more nightmares?” she asked.
“Nightmares!” exploded Carter fiercely. “Nightmares they certainly were! I dreamt two of the nightmares won! I saw them, all night, just as I saw Dromedary, Her Highness and Glowworm, winning, winning, winning!”
“Those were the horses you spoke about last night,” said Dolly severely. “After so wonderful a day, of course you dreamt of racing, and those two horses were in your mind. That’s the explanation.”
They returned to the flat and began, industriously, to pack. About twelve o’clock Carter, coming suddenly into the bedroom where Dolly was alone, found her reading the MORNING TELEGRAPH. It was open at the racing page of “past performances.”
She dropped the paper guiltily. Carter kicked a hat-box out of his way and sat down on a trunk.
“I don’t see,” he began, “why we can’t wait one more day. We’d be just as near the ocean at Sheepshead Bay race-track as on a Fall River boat, and——” He halted and frowned unhappily. “We needn’t bet more than ten dollars,” he begged.
“Of course,” declared Dolly, “if they SHOULD win, you’ll always blame ME!” Carter’s eyes shone hopefully.
“And,” continued Dolly, “I can’t bear to have you blame me. So——”
“Get your hat!” shouted Carter, “or we’ll miss the first race.”