had drawn to a
stop and a familiar cheerful face protruded from the driver's seat.

"Come on down, goopher!" cried Alec.

Amory called a greeting and descending a flight of wooden steps
approached the car. He and Alec had been meeting intermittently, but the
barrier of Rosalind lay always between them. He was sorry for this; he
hated to lose Alec.

"Mr. Blaine, this is Miss Waterson, Miss Wayne, and Mr. Tully."

"How d'y do?"

"Amory," said Alec exuberantly, "if you'll jump in we'll take you to
some secluded nook and give you a wee jolt of Bourbon."

Amory considered.

"That's an idea."

"Step in--move over, Jill, and Amory will smile very handsomely at you."

Amory squeezed into the back seat beside a gaudy, vermilion-lipped
blonde.

"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."

"Glad to."

"You see, Tully and I have two rooms with bath between at the Ranier,
and he's got to go back to New York. I don't want to have to move.
Question is, will you occupy one of the rooms?"

Amory was willing, if he could get in right away.

"You'll find the key in the office; the rooms are in my name."

Declining further locomotion or further stimulation, Amory left the car
and sauntered back along the board walk to the hotel.

He was in an eddy again, a deep, lethargic gulf, without desire to work
or write, love or dissipate. For the first time in