Mason sunk his chin on his chest and frowned thoughtfully. At length, he said, “I’ll see Miss Leeds anyway. She has my curiosity aroused. Three people come together. One person wants to see me before the other two... Send her in, Della”
Della Street looked pointedly at the pile of mail.
“I’ll answer it this afternoon,” he promised. “Let’s see Miss Leeds.”
She slipped through the door to the outer office to return in a few moments with a young woman whose quick, nervous step was indicative of an impatient temperament.
“Phyllis Leeds,” Della Street said.
Miss Leeds crossed rapidly over to Mason’s desk, giving the lawyer an impression of vivid blue eyes which studied him in swift appraisal.
“Thank you so much for seeing me, Mr. Mason,” she said as Della Street withdrew.
Mason bowed. “Sit down,” he said. “Tell me what it’s about.”
She sat down on the extreme edge of the big leather chair across from Mason’s desk, and said, “I can only keep the others waiting a minute or two. I want to give you the sketch.”
Mason opened his office humidor, extended a tray containing four of the better-known brands of cigarettes.