No one responded.
Ketcham made his way to the corner opposite from the toilet, and rested his back against the wall, and started to weep in the darkness.
The parking lot of the country club was nearly full, and Matt lost sight of Susan's Porsche while finding a place to park the Plymouth. After three minutes of wandering around the parking lot, he found the car, but not Susan.
"Thank you ever so much for waiting for me," he muttered, and headed for the brightly lit entrance to the club-house.
He found Susan in the center of the large entrance foyer, talking to a man whose dress and manner made Matt guess-correctly, it turned out-that he was the steward, or manager.
"Good evening," Matt said, smiling.
"Matt, this is Mr. Witherington, the manager."
"Claude Witherington," the man said as he put out his hand to Matt. Then he was unable to resist making the correction: "Executive Manager, actually. Welcome to River View, Mr. Payne. We hope you'll enjoy our facilities. "
"Thank you very much," Matt said.
"After Mr. Reynolds called," Witherington said, "I had your guest card made out." He handed it to Matt.
"Thank you," Matt said.
"This is a no-cash club," Witherington said. "I thought I should mention that."
"How am I going to pay?"
"Have you a home club?"
"I belong to Merion, in Philadelphia, if that's what you mean."
"Splendid. Merion, of course, is on our reciprocal list. Actually, had I known that, I wouldn't have had to issue a guest card at all. In any event, all you will have to do is sign the chit, and if you think of it, add 'Merion, Philadelphia. ' "
"Actually, I think it's in Merion," Matt said. "What should I do, write 'Merion, Merion'?"
Susan Reynolds shook her head, but there was the flicker of a smile on her lips. Mr. Witherington looked distressed, but after a moment smiled happily.
"You just sign your name, Mr. Payne, and I'll handle it from there. You'll be billed through your club."
"You're very kind, thank you very much."
"Not at all," Witherington said. "Enjoy, enjoy!"
He walked off.
Susan put out her hand.
"Good night, Matt."
"Good night?"
"Good night."
"That wasn't our deal, fair maiden. Our deal was that I help you deceive your parents-and that was difficult for me; they're nice people-and in return you keep me from being overwhelmed by loneliness here in the provinces. I kept up my end of the deal, and I expect the same from you."
"Matt, if you go into the bar, and hold your left hand up so that people can see you don't have a wedding ring, a half dozen-what did you say, 'fair maidens'?-will fall over themselves to get at you."
"I know, that happens to me all the time. But I'm not that sort of boy. I don't let myself get picked up by strange young ladies. And I don't kiss on the first date. Besides, if you went home now, so soon, your daddy and mommy might get the idea our romance is on the rocks."
"We don't have a romance."
"You wouldn't want to break your mommy's heart, would you? From the way she was looking at me, she's already making up the guest list for our marriage."
"That's not true!"
" 'The truth is a shattered mirror strewn in myriad bits, and each believes his little bit the whole to own,' " Matt quoted, and when Susan gave him an incredulous look, added, "That's from the Kasidah of Haji Abu el Yezdi-in my judgment, one of the wiser Persian philosophers."
"You're unbelievable!"
"So my mother tells me," Matt said.
"What do you want to do?"
"Let's go in the bar and have a couple of quick stiff ones," Matt said. " 'Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker.' I believe Mr. Ogden Nash said that."
Susan shook her head again. "One drink," she said.
"Three. We can then compromise on two."
Without replying, she walked toward what turned out to be the bar. It was a large, dark, and comfortable room, with a bar along one paneled wall, and tables with red leather-cushioned captain's chairs scattered around the room.
Matt did not miss the eight or ten attractive young women in the room, sitting in groups of two or three at tables and at the bar.
Maybe I should have let her get away. I think the odds to make out in here look pretty good. My chances with Susie range from lousy to zip.
Not that I would, anyway. Could, anyway. Peter was right about that.
I will not, Boy Scout's honor, make that mistake.
A waiter appeared as soon as they sat down.
"Good evening, Miss Reynolds," he said.
"What do you drink, Matt?" Susan asked. "Let your imagination run loose. Da-my father will expect me to make this my treat."
"Daddy's going to pay?" Matt asked.
"That's what I said."
"Would you bring us the wine list, please?" Matt said.
"The wine list?" Susan asked incredulously.
"It's a list of the available fermented grape juices," Matt said seriously, "generally stapled into some kind of artificial leather folder."
"Miss Reynolds?" the waiter asked in confusion.
"Go get the wine list," Matt ordered. "If the lady's going to welsh on her offer to spring for the booze, I'll pay for it myself."
"Get the wine list, please," Susan said.
"Yes, ma'am."
Susan looked at him.
"I don't think your insanity comes naturally," she said. "I suspect you actually think you're amusing, and really work on your crazy-man routine."
"I'm disappointed that you can see through me so easily, " Matt said. "But now that you know my darkest secrets, are you going to tell me yours, to even the playing field?"
"Would it crush you even more if I told you I wouldn't give you my phone number, much less tell you my darkest secrets?"
"I already have your phone number," Matt said.
"Unfortunately," she said.
"When did you first realize you were falling in love with me? At Daffy's?"
"Oh, how I wish I had never seen you at Daffy's!"
"Then it must have been when some primeval force, stronger than both of us, brought you to my hotel-room door."
"Do you ever stop?"
"Not when I'm on a roll."
The waiter laid a wine list in front of Matt.
Matt looked at Susan.
"You never saw one of these before?" he asked innocently. "They're quite common in Philadelphia."
"Jesus Christ!"
"What's your pleasure, Susan?" Matt asked.
"Whatever you like," she replied.
Matt looked at the waiter.
"Have they got any Camembert in the kitchen? Or Roquefort?"
"I'm sure there's Roquefort, sir. I'm not sure about the other."
"Okay. Well, ask, and bring us one or the other, preferably both. And some crackers, and of course a cheese knife, and a bottle of this Turgeson Napa Valley cabernet sauvignon. And a couple of glasses, of course."
"Yes, sir."
"We just had dinner," Susan said when the waiter had gone.
"But-you were so anxious to be alone with me-no dessert."
"I was anxious to get you out of the house as soon as possible."
"Isn't that what I just said?"
"Before you said something you shouldn't have."
"Not fair, fair maiden. I held up my side of the bargain. "
After a moment, she said, "You're right. You did. Thank you."
"You're welcome," Matt said. "That brings me to the other 'thank-you' you owe me."
"For what?"
"For talking that Harrisburg uniform out of giving you a ticket for going sixty-five in a forty-mile-per-hour zone, thereby offending the peace and dignity of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania."