“Why not?” asked Tony.
Adele stepped briskly out of her car, followed by Aggie.
“I can’t make out,” she said. “Oh, do you know Mrs. Sandeman?”
“Yes, of course,” said Tony. “And it couldn’t have been Princess Isabel.”
“Why not? She met her at Marcia’s last night.”
“Yes, but the Princess fled from her. She fled from her at Riseholme too, and said she would never go to her house. It can’t have been she. But she got hold of that boxer——”
“Alf Watson,” said Adele. “She called him Alf, and I’m going to meet him at her house on Thursday.”
“Then it’s very unkind of you to crab her, Adele,” said Tony.
“I’m not: I’m simply wildly interested. Anyhow, what about you? You spent a Sunday with her at Riseholme.”
“And she calls you Tony,” said Aggie vituperatively, still thinking about the Alf party.