so that, with what speed the old calamity of a motor made, there seemed almost to be no wind at all.
At the landing place, where Jackson was handing the luggage to a porter, and looking after the portrait himself, the Colonel said, “Do you want to say good-bye here?”
“Do I have to?”
“No.”
“May I come up to the bar in the garage while they are getting the car down?”
“That will be worse.”
“I do not care.”
“Get that stuff up to the garage, and have somebody look after it until you get the car down,” the Colonel said to Jackson. “Check on my guns and pack this stuff in a way to give the maximum space in the rear seat.”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson said.
“Am I going then?” the girl asked.
“No,” the Colonel told her.
“Why can’t I go?”
“You know very well. You weren’t invited.”
“Please don’t be bad.”
“Christ, Daughter, if you knew how hard I am trying not to be. It’s easy if you’re bad. Let’s pay this good man off, and go over and sit on the bench there under the tree.”
He paid the owner of the motor boat, and told him that he had not forgotten about the jeep engine. He also told him not to count on it, but that there was a good chance that he could get it.
