Page:The Whisper on the Stair by Lyon Mearson (1924).djvu/167

 she had not gone of her own volition, but had been forced, she surely needed him. Anyway, he was going to decide where she had gone, and he would follow on the chance that she would be glad to see him. It was worth while for him to try, because there was the chance of his being near her. That would be enough for him—just to be somewhere where Jessica Pomeroy was; where he could see her and drink in the wine of her presence. That last phrase was his, and he was a little proud of it. The wine of her presence! Truly, it ran trippingly off the tongue.

It was about noon when Val reached these conclusions, and true to his promise Teck returned. He was not in good humor—Val could see that. Val improved the shining moment.

“How about a drink, Iggy?” he asked innocuously.

“Have you decided to promise what I asked of you?” inquired Teck in his turn. Val shook his head.

“Then don’t worry about a drink, because you’ll need one still worse where you’re going from here,” Teck promised him blackly.

“The latest authorities agree that there is no hell, except as one makes it for oneself on this earth,” said Val. “I am a little surprised to see that you still believe in that obsolete place. It was a fiction invented for those⸺”

“Well, unless you do what I ask you’re going to find out pretty soon whether or not there is a hell,” answered Teck. “I’m not inclined to stand any more nonsense from you.” He sat down at the table and regarded his prisoner bleakly.

“Got a smoke?” asked Val.

The other nodded. “But not for you, my friend,” he said. He pressed his wrist to his vest pocket and a