“Nothing but. I mean no expectation or certainty,—but always hope. Now, what’s your lay? Why,—Zizi, tell me why you’re here, or I’ll fly off the handle!”
“Well, wait till we can sit down somewhere and talk comfortably. I haven’t had a room assigned to me yet.”
“But tell me this: you’re here on the Varian case?”
“Yes, of course. Are you?”
“I am. Oh, girl, there must be something doing when we’re here from different starting points and for different reasons!”
“I’m here because of some revelations of Mrs Varian,” Zizi said and Wise stared at her.
“Mrs Varian!” he exclaimed. “I say, Ziz, go to your room, get your bag unpacked and your things put away as quick as you can, won’t you? And then let’s confab.”
Zizi darted away, she arranged to have a bedroom and sitting-room that she could call her own for a few days, and in less than half an hour, she was receiving Wise in her tiny but pleasant domain. “Now,” he said, “tell me your story.”
“It isn’t much of a story,” Zizi admitted,—“but I came here because this is where Betty Varian was born.”
“Up here? In Greenvale, Vermont?”