Zizi went, and returned with the little frock, a mere wisp of light, thin material, and handed it to Pennington Wise.
He inspected the green streak, which was visible though not conspicuous, and then he sniffed at it with such absorption that Zizi laughed outright.
“Pen,” she said, “in detective stories they always represent the great detective as sniffing like a hound on a scent. You’re literally doing it.”
“Not astonishing that I should, little one, when you realize that this green smear is a beacon to light our way.”
“What is it?” Zizi’s big Hack eyes grew serious at Wise’s tone.
“The way out; the exit; the solution of the mystery of the secret passage.”
“Oh, Penny, tell me! You’ll be the death of me if you keep the truth from me! I’m crazy with suspense!”
But Zizi’s curiosity could not be gratified just then, for Fletcher came to say that Minna desired the girl’s company.
Minna Varian had come to depend much on Zizi’s charm and entertainment, and often sent for her when feeling especially blue or nervous.
Zizi had been waiting for an opportunity, and now as the nurse left her alone with Mrs Varian, she gradually and deftly led the talk around to Betty as a baby.