“Oho! I see! Why, I thought you and Mr Barry were pals.”
“We are. Good pals. But I am engaged to Mr Pollard.”
“And you’re to get the money for Louis—in time?”
“Yes—in time. You know?”
“I know he’ll be jailed if he doesn’t fork over about twenty thousand to that old shark!”
“Never mind details. Now, truly, Ivy, do you think Buddy was at Mr Gleason’s that day?”
“I don’t think it, I know it. And, Phyllis—he—he killed him.”
In the gravity of the moment neither noticed the intimate use of the name. Phyllis looked at the other, her eyes full of a dumb agony.
“Don’t!” she begged, “don’t say it!”
“Better face it, dear. I am positive. You see it all hangs together. That old maid person on the floor above, saw a young man come in, and I know it was Louis. Where was he at that time? I mean, where does he say he was?”