She clutched his arm then, and he could feel the tips of her fingers digging into his flesh. “No, no,” she cried. “No, no! You mustn’t ever, ever let anyone know about that… Oh, I should have known you’d trap me!”
Mason patted her shoulder. Noticing the curious glances of several pedestrians, he piloted her toward a doorway. “Take it easy,” he said. “Perhaps there’s some place we can talk… Here’s a cocktail lounge. Let’s go in.”
She permitted him to pilot her into the cocktail lounge, and seated herself as though glad to relieve the strain of her weight on wobbling knees.
“How did you know that?” she asked, as Mason seated himself on the other side of the little table.
A white-coated waiter appeared, and Mason raised his eyebrows at Adelle Hastings.
“A double brandy,” she said.
“Make it two,” Mason ordered, and, when the waiter had withdrawn, Mason said in a kindly voice, “You should have known you couldn’t get away with it.”
“But I could have,” she said, “if I’d… if I’d only used ordinary prudence. I can see it all now. I can see the trap you set for me.”
Mason brushed her remark aside. “Let’s quit this business of beating around the bush,” he said. “Haven’t you something to say to me?”
“About what?”