Edgerton's white lips were compressed.
"Yes," he said.
"Very well; we'll stop at Fern Center. Billings can reduce the fracture."
"Are you going with me?"
"I certainly am," said the elder man.
With a valet's aid he got into his clothes. His swollen wrist lay in a sling.
"I won't bother the others now," he said to Mrs. Rivett who was on the edge of tears because he would not remain and let her take care of him. "Please say good-by for me when they come in, and say that I'm all right and hope to see them all again.... Good-by! ... It's been a real happiness to know you—and yours. Will you let me continue the friendship?"
"Please do," she said tremulously. "Jacob, you will tell Holmes to drive carefully, won't you?"
"Yes, mother. Billings is going to put him in good shape."
So they drove away in a big red touring car, Edgerton sick with pain, but perfectly cheerful; Rivett taciturn, twirling his gloved thumbs, seeming to muse gloomily in his walrus mustache.