“Think so?”
“I know so.”
I said, “There’s the telephone.”
Her eyes narrowed. She said, “And then you could drag me into it, show perhaps that my motives weren’t so pure, and — oh, hell, what’s the use?”
“What do we do next?” I asked.
“We have a damn good stiff drink. When I think of what you could have done to me and didn’t— Dammit, I just can’t figure you. You aren’t dumb. You’re smarter than greased chain lightning. You figured the play and called the signals, and then when I was rushing into the trap, you turned me back. Well, we live and learn. What do you want in your Scotch? Soda or water?”
“Got any Scotch?” I asked.
“Some.”
I said, “I’ve got an expense account.”
“Well now, ain’t that something!”