Outside of Westley’s apartment, the wiper on the black Bentley kept swishing, doing its level best to beat the rainwater to either side of the windshield.

Luke was chatting with Westley in the car.

The old chauffeur said, “Mr. Mason might look cold, but he really has your best interest at heart! Look at the terrible weather now. It’s pouring and he’s reluctant to let you out of the car. That’s why he offered to take your pills for you.”

He added, “Mr. Mason’s far better than my poor excuse