“He slipped up this time,” Caroline said, “I’m so hot.”
“So am I,” said Nancy, slumping limply into the depths of her red velour chair. “I want to get back to New York. Oh! what was it you told me the other day that you had been saving up to tell me?”
Caroline brightened.
“Oh, yes! Why, it was something Collier Pratt said about you. You know Betty has scraped up quite an acquaintance with him. She goes and sits down at his table sometimes.”
“She’s going to be stopped doing that,” Nancy said.
“Well, you remember the night when you went home early with a headache, and passed by his table going out?”
“Yes, but I didn’t know he saw me.”
“He sees everything, Betty says.”
“He didn’t suspect me?”
“He didn’t know you came out of the interior. He said to Betty, ‘It’s curious that Miss Martin never stays here to dine in the evening, though she so often drops in.’ Betty is pretty 110 quick, you know. She said, ‘I think Miss Martin is a friend of the proprietor.’”