“Yes, do,” urged Natalie. “And ask her to come here as soon as she can arrange to.”
X
Orienta
“I wish you’d use your influence with Joyce, and urge her not to have this poppycock business go on.” Barry looked troubled, and his round, good-natured face was unsmiling.
“I have tried,” returned Beatrice Faulkner, “but she is determined. And, really, it can’t do any harm.”
“It might turn suspicion in the wrong direction.”
“Barry, what are you afraid of? Do you fear any revelation she may make?”
“No, oh, no,—not that. But if—well, supposing she should declare positively that it was Natalie or Joyce,—either of them, don’t you see it couldn’t help influencing the police? I want the whole thing hushed up. Father is gone, it can’t do him any good to find out who killed him, and it may make trouble for an innocent person.”
“I’ll talk to Joyce again, but I doubt if I can change her determination to ask this Orienta here. Absurd name!”
“Yes, and an absurd performance all round.”
“I’ll do my best. And, Barry, I’m thinking of leaving here to-morrow; I’ve staid longer than I intended, now.”