The red-head snorted and slept. Gabby looked reproachfully at the bartender who instantly became apologetic, as though he had personally supervised the downfall of the teacher from Yale. "It's not your fault," Gabby told him. "He comes down from New Haven full of undergraduate notions. He had to work his way through college. He never had a chance to be hedonistic." Lennox stepped forward. "I'll take you home, Miss Valentine." "It isn't me that has to be taken. It's Phil." "To New Haven?" "What if I said yes?" "Bon voyage, Miss Valentine." "Oh, why are you so hostile?" "Because I'm a damned fool," Lennox answered furiously. "All right. I'll take him back to New Haven for you." "Not New Haven. New York. The Harvard Club." "A neat one-two. Next time I'll know when to duck. I'll take you both home." "Not me. Phil." "You and Phil both." "That's your price?" "It's a bargain, Miss Valentine. Snap it up." "I think I'd better get someone else." She left the bar. Lennox heaved the red-head up, powerfully but not unkindly, and hauled him to the door. There, an efficient man in black uniform located hats and coats without clues and helped Lennox dress the red-head. Then Lennox dressed himself. When Gabby came to the foyer with three eager admirers, Lennox looked them over and growled: "I'm taking you both home. I'm prepared to fight for it. If you don't believe me get ready for a scene." Her eyes flashed, but she dismissed the men and got into her coat. Together they took the teacher downstairs in a burning silence and propped him in a cab between them. As the cab drove off Lennox asked: "Why the Harvard Club? He teaches at Yale." No answer. He contrived to peer past the red-headed barricade at her. She was impassive. The street lights flickered on her skin like lightning on jewels. He had never wanted anyone and hated anyone so badly in his life; nor known anything so inexplicably out of his grasp. He said: "I worked my way through college too. I was a telegrapher." No answer. After five minutes he said: "Can you spell hedonistic?" No answer. They arrived at the Harvard Club and turned the teacher over to a patient doorman. Lennox did not ask permission to re-enter the cab. He got in and slammed the door. Gabby gave her address in the Village and the cab started. Lennox was startled. He had expected a number on Park Avenue. He revised his guess about her society background. The cab crunched downtown through crusted streets. The rain and snow had stopped. There was no wind, but the air was still bitter. A few blocks from Union Square, Lennox abruptly called to the driver: "Stop here. On the right, two doors down. Don't argue with me. Stop."