The most beautiful princess in the world laughed in a funny choked sort of a way and she hugged Mary Rose. "You see, honey girl," she said, and Mary Rose loved her voice now that the enchantment was broken and she could hear how soft and sweet it was, "we own him together, you and I."
Mary Rose looked at their joint property with awe and admiration. "Do we?" It scarcely seemed possible. "Aren't we the lucky girls!"
CHAPTER XXVII
Never did a five-passenger automobile hold more happiness than that car of Mr. Jerry's as it was driven slowly back to the Washington that wonderful September evening. And never did the Washington look more pleasant. A little group of tenants, Mrs. Schuneman, Mrs. Willoughby, Mrs. Matchan and Miss Carter, were standing out in front talking of what had happened the night before. Mary Rose waved her hand to them and to Bob Strahan, who was hurrying up the street.
"Say!" he called. "I've found out who owns the Washington. It's old Wells!"
"Mr. Wells!" They stared from him up to the windows of Mr. Wells' apartments which were wide open.
"Yep! I had to dig up some stuff over at the building inspector's and ran plump against the fact that the owner of the Washington has always been Horace J. Wells. No wonder he acted as if he owned it."
"But he told me he was a friend of the owner," objected Mary Rose, when she understood.
"I guess he isn't a friend to anyone but himself," murmured Bob Strahan.