He said, “Have a cigarette, Pat.”
And we drove on through the warm summer night.
At my door, he said, “I’m not coming upstairs. It’s so late. And don’t
try to think of any parting speech, child. Pretend I’ll be coming back,
in September, and wish me a pleasant vacation.”
So I wished him a pleasant vacation, and we shook hands, and said
“good-night” to each other.