"Do you always talk to him in French?" I went on cautiously.
"Yes, always. He likes it best," she answered, without looking up again.
"But we heard you say something to him in English this afternoon," I ventured, for I had a scheme as to just how I was going to trap her. For a wonder, she fell into it.
"I didn't! I don't remember saying a word in English."
This was just what I had thought. She was so excited at the time that she hadn't remembered.
"Oh, but you did!" broke in Carol. "We heard you say: 'Then I'm right? It is the same? I was sure it was.'"
"You horrid things!" burst out the Imp. "Always tracking me around and eavesdropping! You once accused me of that, but I think the tables are turned now."
"Look here," I said, and I felt downright mad, "you know perfectly well we weren't doing anything of the kind. We happened to come out of Anita's house right behind you, and we refrained from joining you at first because we knew you didn't want us. We couldn't help it if you talked so loud that we could hear what you said."
She calmed down at that, and I seized the advantage and determined on a bold stroke.
"Bobs dear," I said, in as friendly a way as I could, "we know you've discovered something about Monsieur or Louis or some one from what you said and did this afternoon. Won't you tell us about it, too? You know we're awfully interested. And just to show you that we only mean to be friendly, I'll give you that new fountain-pen of mine, if you care to have it. I don't mean it as a bribe, but only to make you feel that we aren't really hateful."