“Until later, then,” he said. “This is the Gayfield road, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
She turned and walked toward the house; and as though he could not help himself he walked beside her, his hat in his hand once more.
“I like this place,” he said. “I wonder if there is a hotel in Gayfield.”
“The Gayfield House.”
“Is it very bad?” he asked jocosely.
She seemed surprised. It was considered good, she thought.
With a slight, silent nod of dismissal she crossed the 64 road and went into the house, leaving him standing beside his wrecked machine once more, looking after her out of sluggish eyes.
Presently, from the house, emerged Stull, his pasty face startling in its pallor under the cloudless sky, and walked slowly over to Brandes.
“Well, Ben,” said the latter pleasantly, “I’m going to Gayfield to telegraph for another car.”