"That's my girl, say how about that wedding veil? Been thinking any more about it?"
There was silence for a moment, then a conscious giggle, the full significance of which James Ryan was not in a position to figure out.
"Say, Jimmie, quit your kiddin'! You mustn't say things like that over the 'phone."
"Why not?"
"'Cause. Folks might listen."
"I should worry! Well, since you say so. How about seein' a show together to-night?"
"Fine an' dandy, Jimmie! I'll be ready at the usual time. I gotta go now, the boss is comin'. So long, Jimmie!"
"So long, darling!"
But the receiver at the other end hung up with a click, while Jane with a smile on her lips thought of the pasteboard box under her bed and wondered what Jimmie would say if he could know. For Jane had fully made up her mind that Jimmie was not to know. Not at present, anyhow. Some time she might tell him if things turned out all right, but she knew just what lordly masculine advice and criticism would lie upon James Ryan's lips if she attempted to tell him about her strange and wonderful guest of the night before. Maybe she was a fool to have trusted a stranger that way. Maybe the girl would turn out to be insane or wrong somehow, and trouble come, but she didn't believe it; and anyhow, she was going to wait, until she saw what happened next before she got Jimmie mixed up in it. Besides, the secret wasn't hers to tell. She had promised Betty, and she always kept her promises. That was one reason why she was so slow in promising to think about a wedding veil in response to James Ryan's oft repeated question.