Joan bubbled over and Patricia gave a relieved laugh.
"Lordy!" she gasped, "you gave me a bad minute. I thought——"
"What, Pat?" Joan touched the switch.
"I—I thought—it might be someone else. I haven't had a thing to eat since breakfast," Patricia announced, dropping on a couch and pulling the cushions into all the crevices surrounding her thin, weary little body.
"I'll get the nicest little meal for you in a jiffy!" Joan sprang to her feet. "Is there anything to fix?" she added, quickly.
"There's always something"—Patricia closed her eyes—"eggs and milk and—and canned horrors." Then, with a radiant smile:
"I've been on the trail of your man, Joan, and it was some trail."
"Pat, darling," Joan hung over the couch, "you take a couple of winks. I'm going out to get—a steak."
"A what?" Patricia regarded Joan gravely. "A brand-new steak for me? Joan, you must be mad!"
"Pat, lie down and dream a minute or two. A steak, fried potatoes, a vegetable, and dessert with coffee, cheese, crackers—and—and——" Joan was putting on her hat while she spoke and Patricia was sniffing adorably.