“Belle?” he asked.
“Yes. Her eyes were all starry and she was so Radiantly, quietly happy, so sure of her love — and of his.”
“She’s a mighty fine girl,” Mason said. “There’s only one I know of who can beat her. I’m hoping that sometime she’ll—”
She withdrew her hand from his. “Now wait a minute, Chief,” she protested. “Let’s not get too sentimental. You know as well as I do that you’d hate a home if you had one. You’re a stormy petrel flying from one murder case to another. If you had a wife you’d put her in a fine home-and leave her there. You don’t want a wife. But you do need a secretary who can take chances with you — and you have another case waiting in Los Angeles.”
Mason’s eyes squinted thoughtfully. “I wonder,” he said, “just what that case is. Jackson said it had an unusual angle he thought would interest me.”