“Don’t worry,” Stone said. He walked to the men’s room and paused at the door for a glimpse into the bar. Daltry was sitting on a stool, talking to a pretty girl next to him. Stone used the men’s room, then paused again on leaving. Daltry was still there, and he hadn’t seen Stone.

Stone walked to the front door and out into the night. A car had just pulled up, and its occupants were walking into the inn as the valet parker drove away their car. Stone found himself alone on the porch. A few cars to his left, he saw the white BMW M6 parked. He looked around once again to be sure he was alone, then he walked down to the car and quickly unscrewed the valve covers from the two tires facing away from the inn’s front door, found a twig and let the air out of both tires. He stood up and looked around. He was still alone. He started back toward the door, when suddenly his anger overwhelmed him. The parking lot was lined with a row of stones the size of soccer balls. He walked to the front of the BMW, picked up one of the stones and, with some effort, heaved it through the windshield of the car. The crash was surprisingly muted, and Stone walked back into the inn, leaving the rock in the driver’s seat. He encountered no one, and he glanced into the bar again. Daltry had his back to the door. Stone rejoined Celia.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“Nothing. I saw him but thought better of speaking to him.” He was giddy with elation at what he had done.

They finished their main course and coffee, and Stone gave his parking ticket to the waiter as the check arrived. “Please give this to the valet,” he said. “We’ll be there in a moment.”

When they departed the inn, the valet was there with Stone’s car. They got in and drove slowly back to the house. By the time they were inside, Stone’s elation had swung the other way. What had he done? Letting the air out of the man’s tires was a stupid, juvenile prank, but heaving the rock through the windshield was insane. If anyone had seen him, he’d have been arrested. What had he been thinking?

They went upstairs, and as Stone was emptying his pockets, he came up with the bottle of painkillers and looked at the label. “Do not take in conjunction with alcohol,” it read.

Good God, he thought. Eliza was right; he had run amok! And Daltry was going to go nuts when he saw his car. It would be easy enough for him to learn that Stone and Celia had had dinner at the inn, and he would certainly put two and two together. He would react badly.