"Um!" I exclaimed shamelessly, "A peach! Who's your friend?"
I had never said a truer word than in my description of her, though I did not know it at the time. She was indeed known as "Gertie the Peach" in the select circle to which she belonged.
Gertie was very attractive, though frightfully over-dressed. But, then, no one thinks anything of that now, in New York.
Kennedy had opened the lower door and our fair visitor was coming upstairs. Meanwhile he was deeply in thought before the "teleview." He made up his mind quickly, however.
"Go in there, Walter," he said, seizing me quickly and pushing me into my room. "I want you to wait there and watch her carefully."
I slipped the gun into my pocket and went, just as a knock at the door told me she was outside.
Kennedy opened the door, disclosing a very excited young woman.
"Oh, Professor Kennedy," she cried, all in one breath, with much emotion, "I'm so glad I found you in. I can't tell you. Oh—my jewels! They have been stolen—and my husband must not know of it. Help me to recover them—please!"
She had not paused, but had gone on in a wild, voluble explanation.
"Just a moment, my dear young lady," interrupted Craig, finding at last a chance to get a word in edgewise. "Do you see that table—and all those papers? Really, I can't take your case. I am too busy as it is even to take the cases of many of my own clients."