CHAPTER IV
RAIN AND RANDY'S SOUL
I
Madge came down the next morning dressed for her journey. "Oscar and Flora are going to take me as far as Washington in their car. They want you to make a fourth, Georgie."
Dalton was eating alone. Breakfast was served at small tables on the west terrace. There was a flagged stone space with wide awnings overhead. Except that it overlooked a formal garden instead of streets, one might have been in a Parisian café. The idea was Oscar's. Dalton had laughed at him. "You'll be a boulevardier, Oscar, until you die."
Oscar had been sulky. "Well, how do you want me to do it?"
"Breakfast in bed—or in a breakfast room with things hot on the sideboard, luncheon, out here on the terrace when the weather permits, tea in the garden, dinner in great state in the big dining-room."
"I suppose you think you know all about it.
But the thing that I am always asking myself is, were you born to it, Dalton?"