“I’m always all right, Ginny. Never worry about me. Always remember that no matter what happens, I’ll take care of myself, and...”
The store detective interposed his bulk between Mason’s eyes and the face of the white-haired woman. “I’m very sorry, Madam,” he said, “but I’m going to have to ask you to step into the office.”
Mason heard a quick gasp of consternation from the girl, but the woman’s voice remained calmly placid. “I have no intention of stepping into the office, young man. I’m about to eat lunch. If anyone in the office wishes to see me, he can come here.”
“I’m trying,” the detective said with dignity, “to avoid making a scene.”
Mason pushed back his soup, to watch with frank interest, as the detective stepped behind the woman’s chair. She calmly broke off a piece of bread, buttered it, unhurriedly glanced up over her shoulder and said, “Don’t try to avoid making a scene on my account, young man. Go right ahead.”
“You’re making it difficult for me,” he said.
“Indeed!” she muttered.
“Aunt Sarah,” the girl pleaded, “don’t you think...”
“I don’t think I’m going to budge until I’ve had my lunch,” Aunt Sarah interrupted. “They say the cream of tomato soup here is very nice. I believe I’ll try some and...”
“I’m sorry,” the detective interposed, “but unless you accompany me, Madam, it will be necessary for me to make a public arrest.”