“Say, maybe that was it!” he exclaimed. Then, with a laugh, Phil added. “No, that couldn’t be. According to the descriptions of the banshee, Arlene would have left her clothes in the telephone booth if she evaporated in person.”
Thara took that statement seriously, or in another sense, she was serious enough to think that Phil was gullible.
“You believe that nonsense?” she queried. “It is very foolish if you do. Maybe the moonlight played some tricks with people’s eyes, as in the country where I have lived so long. Or perhaps some girl wearing a bathing suit was going swimming in the pool, just because it was not allowed there.”
“She wasn’t wearing a bathing cap,” reminded Phil. “The newspapers spoke of her long, flowing hair, like Arlene’s, except that it was dark.”
“You mean the night was dark,” argued Thara, “except for the moonlight, which plays so many tricks. But if you wish to find out more, go to the park - in daytime.”
“Why in daytime?” parried Phil. “Are the banshees liable to catch me?”
“The banshees? No! The police! You read the newspapers and you will find out they have put many of them there. Too many police - no banshee. You see!”
With that, Thara laughed in her really musical style; then, resting her elbows on the table, her chin between her hands, she gave Phil all that serious glow of her dark, breathtaking eyes and came back to prosaic matters.
“It is a friend of mine who asked that I should meet you,” said Thara. “Just a business friend” - seemingly she added this so that Phil would lose no budding thoughts of romance - “but it is better it should be that way, because the business should be good for you.”
Phil gave an approving nod.