"Hello, Doug Fairbanks," she said flippantly. "Walking for exercise or
hunting for company?"
"I was counting the waves," replied Amory gravely. "I'm going in for
statistics."
"Don't kid me, Doug."
When they reached an unfrequented side street Alec stopped the car among
deep shadows.
"What you doing down here these cold days, Amory?" he demanded, as he
produced a quart of Bourbon from under the fur rug.
Amory avoided the question. Indeed, he had had no definite reason for
coming to the coast.
"Do you remember that party of ours, sophomore year?" he asked instead.
"Do I? When we slept in the pavilions up in Asbury Park--"
"Lord, Alec! It's hard to think that Jesse and Dick and Kerry are all
three dead."
Alec shivered.
"Don't talk about it. These dreary fall days depress me enough."
Jill seemed to agree.
"Doug here is sorta gloomy anyways," she commented. "Tell him to drink
deep--it's good and scarce these days."
"What I really want to ask you, Amory, is where you are--"
"Why, New York, I suppose--"
"I mean to-night, because if you haven't got a room yet you'd better help
me out.
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