"And I had better give you a power of attorney, in case anything should crop up."
He called for writing materials, and scribbled and signed the document, which I put into my letter case.
"And what about letters?"
"Don't want any. Unless"—said he, after a little pause, frowning in the plenitude of his content—"if you and Barbara can make things right again with Doria—then one of you might drop me a line. I'll send you a schedule of dates."
"Still harping on my daughter?" said I.
"You may think it devilish funny," he replied; "but for me there's only one woman in the world."
"Let us have a final drink," said I.
We drank, chatted a while, and went to bed.
When I awoke the next morning the Vesta was already four hours on her way to Madagascar.