"Oh, not so early," Lillian entreated. Her plea was a bit too earnest. Even the Fishers could see that she desired nothing so much as their departure.
"Yeh, we got to go." Billy wasted no time in getting his coat on and brushing Louise ahead of him to the door. No need to linger tonight and hint about the Nash. He wasn't going to bother about Jamaica tomorrow. He would have to stay in town Wednesday on account of the broadcast; so he might just as well take tomorrow off, too, and haunt the music publishing houses.
"Good night, Scotty," Billy called.
"Good night," Louise echoed.
Hubert's voice came from the living-room. "Oh, are you going? Good night."
He did not come out to see them down the stairs.
"I guess he's mad," Louise said.
"No," Lillian assured her. "I think he's just starting one of his well-known naps."
The Fishers knew that she didn't think that at all. They went out without making any arrangements for future meetings.
Lillian flew to the living-room. Hubert was sitting motionless on the couch staring at the opposite wall. He looked grave and thoughtful, like a man waiting in a doctor's reception room.
"Did you hear what she said to me?" Lillian asked him.
"What did she say?"
"What did she say! What's the matter with you? Are you crazy?"
