“Of Kathleen Page.”
“Well, you don’t happen to have a pat of the very best butter about you?”
“Whatever for?”
“To see if it would melt in her mouth.”
“It wouldn’t,” said the red-headed girl; and added fiercely, “I hate her—nasty, hypocritical, unprincipled little toad!”
“Oh, come, come! I hope that you won’t allow any of this to creep into those notes of yours.”
“She probably killed Mimi Bellamy herself,” replied the newest member of the Fourth Estate darkly. “I wouldn’t put it past her for a moment. She——”
“The Court!”
The red-headed girl flounced to her feet, the fires still burning in her cheeks, eyeing Miss Page’s graceful ascent to the witness box with a baleful eye. “I hope she’s headed straight for all the trouble there is,” she remarked between clenched teeth to the reporter.
For the moment it looked as though her wish were about to be gratified.