Now as the girls entered the ranch house and approached the kitchen they went on tiptoe. Together they peeped around the door. Everything was spick and span, but Loo Wong was nowhere in sight.
“It seems the coast is clear,” smiled Gale.
“Ah, but if Loo Wong returns there will be fireworks,” Val declared. “However, here goes.”
From the closet Valerie brought the pan and the necessary ingredients while Gale sat on the edge of the table and watched. The brown mixture was on the stove and a delicious odor filled the room. When Valerie took the pan from the fire to beat the fudge Gale stuck an experimental finger in it for a taste.
“Ouch!” she cried.
Valerie giggled. “You might have known it was hot,” she said unsympathetically.
“Just the same, it tastes good,” Gale declared. “When can I have a piece?”
“When it gets cold!” Valerie said. “Come along, young lady,” she said, leading Gale into the other room. “Let it alone for a while.”
The girls took magazines and settled themselves for the rest of the afternoon. The silence was undisturbed but for the occasional rustling of paper when a page was turned. Val got up and turned on the radio. Soft music filtered into the room.
“Imagine,” Gale smiled lazily from her comfortable position, “way out here we can dance to music from California or New York.”