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The Supercilious Sacrifice
There’sbeentoomuchofthisstuff,andwegota’rangementwiththenewspaperssothatyougetalittlefreepublicity.Notthenameofthehotel,butjustalinesayin’thatyouhadalittletroublein’lanticCity.See?"
"Isee."
"You’regettin’offlight—damnlight—but—"
"Comeon,"saidAmorybriskly."Let’sgetoutofhere.Wedon’tneedavaledictory."
OlsonwalkedthroughthebathroomandtookacursoryglanceatAlec’sstillform.Thenheextinguishedthelightsandmotionedthemtofollowhim.AstheywalkedintotheelevatorAmoryconsideredapieceofbravado—yieldedfinally.HereachedoutandtappedOlsononthearm.
"Wouldyoumindtakingoffyourhat?There’saladyintheelevator."
Olson’shatcameoffslowly.Therewasaratherembarrassingtwominutesunderthelightsofthelobbywhilethenightclerkandafewbelatedguestsstaredatthemcuriously;theloudlydressedgirlwithbenthead,thehandsomeyoungmanwithhischinseveralpointsaloft;theinferencewasquiteobvious.Thenthechilloutdoors—wherethesaltairwasfresherandkeenerstillwiththefirsthintsofmorning.
"Youcangetoneofthosetaxisandbeatit,"saidOlson,pointingtotheblurredoutlineoftwomachineswhosedriverswerepresumablyasleepinside.
"Good-by,"saidOlson.Hereachedinhispocketsuggestively,butAmorysnorted,and,takingthegirl’sarm,turnedaway.
"Wheredidyoutellthedrivertogo?"sheaskedastheywhirledalongthedimstreet.
"Thestation."
