“So you don’t have to lease the apartments to anyone you don’t know.”
“On the contrary, I don’t lease to anyone I do know. Socially, that is. My tenants are all strangers, and naturally they don’t know I’m the owner. That’s the way it’s going to stay.”
“A kingdom of your own, on Beacon Hill,” said George.
“Eventually, when I buy the houses in back of mine, so that nobody’ll be able to see in,” said Hibbard. “But I have no secret passageway. You’ve given me an idea.”
“My little secret is modest compared to yours,” said George. “I daresay you’ll eventually own a whole city block.”
“Possibly. But it isn’t the size of the secret. Your passageway does as much for you as my houses will for me.”
George nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I’ve gotten very fond of this house in a very short time. It already has a character that most houses take years acquiring. I stayed with it every step of the way, when I was building it, and just before we were ready to move in, there was a fatal accident here.” He told briefly the story of the boy impaled on the stone wall.
“I’m glad to see you’re not superstitious about it,” said Hibbard.
“Not in the least,” said George. “Unless you consider an omen superstitious. Perhaps it is.”
“What is the omen?”
“The omen is this: I built that wall to keep people out, just as my grandfather once did to protect himself from people who had threatened his life. That’s too long a story to go into now, but he was threatened. So the idea of a wall around a Lockwood house, my Lockwood house, was by way of being a family tradition. My wall was no more popular than my grandfather’s was in his time, by the way. In fact, this entire establishment was unpopular. I bought a farm, for instance, from a fellow whose family had farmed here for over a century, and I tore down everything. House, barns, et cetera, and the farmer moved out of the county. Then I put up my wall, more or less to serve notice on my neighbors and the people in town, and put the spikes in the wall. The first time we had a trespasser, he lost his life. How do you, as a Christer, feel about that?”
“That’s hard to say. You had nothing to do with the boy’s being killed.”
“I ordered the spikes in the wall,” said George.
“Well, I’m not in any position to criticize. I’m going to some lengths to keep people out of my life, aren’t I? And I’ve always liked the idea of having a moat around a castle. I know a very religious man who has a small island in Maine, and I can just hear him piously criticizing you for putting spikes in your wall. But he gets his privacy by surrounding himself with the Atlantic Ocean. It’d take a very good swimmer to get there from the mainland. In fact, not everybody can get there by boat. I’ll have to withhold any moral judgment on your wall. As long as you’re not too critical of my little kingdom on Beacon Hill.”
“How would you like to postpone your visit to Bayard Donaldson and spend the night here?” said George.
“Thank you, sir. I wish I could. I truly wish I could. Unfortunately it’s not Mr. Donaldson but Mr. Mackie who’s going to be my host tonight, and he’s sailing for Europe the day after tomorrow. He stretched a point to see me tonight.”
“In that case, you can’t get out of it.”
“Duty first,” said Hibbard.
“Oh, he’s a very entertaining fellow, Mackie. You’ll be brought up to date on the latest dirty limericks, and those Scranton people go in for strenuous hospitality. Where do you go from there?”
“Tomorrow night I’ll be at the Fort Orange Club in Albany, a small dinner for the alumni in that region. Driving home the next day, and putting my car in the shop for a complete overhaul. When this is over I’ll need one myself.”
“I should think so,” said George. “What will you do to recuperate?”
“As a matter of fact, I’m going to sequester myself in my flat in Chestnut Street. Take a week off and see no one.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” said George. “The human race can be much too companionable. I wish I had a greater fondness for animals, but they can be a bore, too.”
“Well, I’ve enjoyed our misanthropic luncheon, Mr. Lockwood. It’s been one of the bright spots on my tour.”
“I hope you mean that,” said George.
“Oh, I do. Mark my words, when I say thank-you, I mean thank-you, but when I say I’ve enjoyed myself I mean a great deal more.”
“Say that again,” said George.
“Why?”
“I just wanted to hear that rich Boston accent pronouncing ‘mark my words.’ “
“Mark my words? Get a State of Maine native to pronounce ‘Hershey bar.’ Mark my words, the Hershey bars at the Parker House can’t be beat. How was that?”
“It takes me back to St. Bartholomew’s.”
“Speaking of which, I am putting you down for ten thousand. You’ll be getting a pledge card in due course. Is that satisfactory?”
“Pending the latest developments from Groton. Before you go I’d like to have you meet my wife,” said George. He went to the house telephone on the wall, pushed one of the buttons, and spoke. “My dear, Mr. Hibbard is just about to leave. Can you come down and say hello? . . . Thank you … She’ll be right down.”
Geraldine Lockwood appeared in a Fortuny gown. “I was sure you gentlemen wanted to be left alone,” she said.
“Now I’ll never forgive Mr. Lockwood for keeping you out of sight. Isn’t that a Fortuny gown?”
“Yes, it is,” said Geraldine.
“How the devil would you know that?” said George.
“Oh, I have other sides to me,” said Hibbard. “As a matter of fact, I picked up that information from my sister-in-law. She wears them all the time. Different ones.”
“Yes, they’re nice for wearing at home,” said Geraldine.
“Well, I hate to interrupt this fashion discussion, but if you’re driving to Scranton, I understand there’s a long detour between Hazleton and Wilkes-Barre, and you’re not going to make very good time. Will you let me know if you’re ever in this neighborhood again, and we can put you up for the night,” said George.
“I most certainly will,” said Hibbard.
George Lockwood helped him on with his topcoat. The men shook hands. Hibbard picked up his green felt bag. The Lockwoods saw him to his car and he was off.
“A charming, very attractive young man,” said George. “Didn’t you think so?”
“I didn’t see him long enough to get any impression,” said Geraldine.
“Oh, really? Watching the two of you, I thought I detected a spark of something or other.”
“If there was any, you misinterpreted it,” she said. “At least on my part. I was the opposite of attracted to him.”
“Repelled?”
“Maybe not as strong as that, but I wasn’t attracted to him.”
“Why not?”
“He’s a sneak,” she said.
“A sneak? How on earth could you tell that? That’s a preposterous thing to say, when you weren’t in his company five minutes.”
“I’m telling you what I thought,” she said.
“Did I miss something? My back was only turned for a few seconds.”
“He didn’t pinch me, if that’s what you mean. But he would. He has that look. Maybe that’s what you called a spark. But I’ll bet I know how he dances.”
“This is monstrous, Geraldine,” said George. “In two hours the better I got to know him, the more I began to believe that he and I had a lot in common.”