"That's so, that's so," he agreed reluctantly. "Oh damn it all,"
he burst out, "have a drink!" and going back to the table he
pounded in the stopper of a soda-water-bottle savagely.

Craven laughed constrainedly as he tilted the whisky into a glass.

"Universal panacea," he said a little bitterly, "but it's not my
method of oblivion."

He put the peg tumbler down with a smothered sigh.

"I must be off, Jermyn. It's time you were getting under way. It's
been like the old days to have had a yarn with you again. Good
luck and a quick run home--you lucky devil."

Atherton walked with him to the head of the gangway and watched
him into the launch.

"We shall count on you for the Adirondacks in the summer," he
called out cheerily, leaning far over the rail.

Craven looked up with a smile and waved his hand, but did not
answer and the motor boat shot away toward the shore.

He landed on the big pier and lingered for a moment to watch the
launch speeding back to the yacht. Then he walked slowly down the
length of the stage and at the entrance found his rickshaw
waiting. The two men who were squatting on the ground leaped up at
his approach and one hurriedly lit a great dragon-painted paper