Well one night, some of us saw him, or thought we saw him, at a café dining with ‘Alcide,’—as a matter of fact, it seems that it was her sister. She saw Lucy darkening her doorstep and stood from the recliner. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. As for himself, there had never been a touch of it. She drove me. And next morning she attired herself with especial care and neatness, found his address in the Directory at a post-office, and went to him. We've ridden post all the way, and I'm horribly tired, or you wouldn't have mastered me so easily. Where the devil have you hidden all those weapons? Don’t tell me you’ve got ’em with you.
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