Helen, being close at Ruth’s side, was the only one to hear the latter’s startled, half-whispered exclamation.
By the time Tom and Chess had noticed the defection of the two girls and had started back toward them, Ruth had recovered her composure.
“What’s the idea of holding up the parade?” Chess demanded jovially.
“Is there anything you want? If so I’ll get it for you,” Tom added.
“Oh, millions of things, Tommy-boy,” Helen cried before Ruth could speak and so betray her agitation. “That really was a very rash promise, but we won’t take you up on it. What we want most right now is rest and privacy and perchance a bite of refreshment. Lead on, lead on!”
Ruth was grateful to her chum for so disguising her own agitation and dismay. Helen’s continuous chatter as they were carried up in the elevator prevented either Tom or Chess from noticing or commenting upon her rather tight-lipped silence.
The elevator stopped and they followed the porter down a rather dark and gloomy corridor richly carpeted so as to muffle the heaviest footfall.
They went first to the girls’ rooms. A key was slipped into a lock and they entered the regulation hotel room, rather stuffy and gloomy, though comfortably furnished, with a bath attached and a door leading off into a smaller room. In the larger of the two rooms the bed wore the disguise of a cretonne-covered couch, thus transforming the bedroom into a rather attractive sitting room during the daytime.
“Here’s your reception room, Ruth,” said Tom, “where you can meet your actors and confab to your heart’s content. Like it?”
“All perfectly lovely, Tom dear, although we really didn’t need the extra room. Still it will be lovely, having the two,” she added quickly, unwilling to spoil Tom’s satisfaction. “It gives one space to move about in.”