She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. ‘Do not speak of him. But, holy smoke!—the Yale spirit in…. ’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key. It was no use. But I'll tell e'e what we might do——" The young man heard no more. For hours he seemed to have pleasant dreams of open skies and airplanes, but then the dreams would disintegrate into fleshy charnel house nightmares where he could hear her calling to him through a fog. For heaven’s sake, give him some Madeira or something, Gerald! Anything to calm him down.
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