CHAPTER 20I went out, as soon as I could move, and Sandy followed me.
“Where’s Jerry?” he asked as we went up the stairs.
“I left her in my room,” I said.
He looked at me inquiringly. “Dad doing the heavy father again?”
“About Roger,” I answered.
His jaw tightened. I stopped on the landing. “Look,” I said. “You make me sick.”
“Not as sick as he makes me,” he retorted stubbornly.
“Look, Sandy,” I said earnestly. “We ran into him last night…by the sheerest accident, believe me. He didn’t know anything about your Mr. Samuel Smith of the Broken Head.”
“Yes?” he said. “Who’d he think he was—the Female Stranger?”
I knew he was referring to the most romantic incident in old Alexandria’s glamorous past. A girl—a lady—was brought to Gatsby’s Tavern late one night, over a hundred years ago,
