“Certainly!” answered an equally polite voice at the other end of the wire. “Just a moment, please! You mean Mr. Houseman, second officer on the Mazell?”
“I don’t know,” said Lexy, surprised. “Has he blue eyes?”
There was an instant’s silence. Then the voice spoke again, a little unsteadily.
“I—I believe so.”
“He’s laughing at me!” thought Lexy indignantly, and her voice became severely dignified.
“Can you tell me where the—the Mazell has gone?”
“Lisbon and Gibraltar. We expect her back in about five weeks.”
“Thank you!” said Lexy. “And that’s that!” she added, to herself. “So he’s a sailor! I rather like sailors. Well, anyhow, he’s gone.” She sighed. “Carry on!” she said.
She went into a tea room on Forty-Second Street and ordered herself a very good lunch.
“Much better than I can afford,” she thought. “Goodness knows what’s going to happen to me! Here I am, without visible means of support. I suppose I’m an idiot. Lots of people would say so. They’d say I ought to be looking for a new job this instant; but I don’t care! I’m not going back on Caroline. Mrs. Enderby won’t do anything, and Mr. Houseman’s gone away, and there’s nobody but me. Perhaps I can’t do very much, but, by jiminy, I’m going to try!”