“Certainly,” agreed Linda. “I shall be glad to see you as soon as possible.”
Linda replaced the receiver and turned to Dot.
“You know what I’ve been thinking? This girl can’t look exactly like me, or Mr. Sprague wouldn’t have noticed the difference at once. Instead, he’d have greeted me more like a friend. But you remember—he opened his mouth in surprise.”
“That’s right. Of course we couldn’t judge much from her picture, with that helmet on. She was your build and your type, Linda. Light curly hair, and the same kind of nose.”
“I’m dying to see her.”
“So am I. But we shall tomorrow.”
“Well,” continued Linda, “it’s going to be interesting to get Mr. Von Goss’s reaction. At any rate, he was a lot more polite over the telephone than his secretary.”
The man arrived about nine o’clock, and Linda heard herself being paged just as she and Dot came out of the dining-room.
“Hadn’t I better slip off?” suggested the latter, in a whisper.
“No, indeed!” protested Linda. “I need your moral support.”