“Quite a coincidence, eh, Miss Vicki? Two girls with the same name. Well, well. Let’s all sit down, anyway.” He sat down heavily. “I ate too much lunch.”
Lucy stared at her grandfather. She stayed as close as she could to Vicki, her hand still in her pocket.
“How odd that we’ve never met,” the false Lucy said smoothly to the true Lucy. “I’m from San Francisco, too, you know.”
“It—it is quite a coincidence, isn’t it?” Mrs. Bryant said shakily.
Vicki drew a deep breath and said what sooner or later had to be said. “It’s more than a coincidence, Mrs. Bryant. This young woman is—is your granddaughter, and I can—”
“That’s preposterous!” the false Lucy exclaimed. She was furious. “I am the Bryants’ granddaughter, and I resent—”
“—and I can prove it,” Vicki went on evenly. “There has been a terrible mistake here. If one can call it a mistake.”
Marshall Bryant snorted. “Young lady, you’re having a pipe dream. Thurman Dorn is a good man, a good lawyer. He doesn’t make mistakes. Do you think I’d hire an incompetent man?”
Vicki was shaking all over. “It isn’t simply a mistake, Mr. Bryant. Forgive me for contradicting you, but Mr. Dorn has deliberately brought you the wrong girl.”
“Rot!” the big man said, and the false Lucy drew herself up in scorn. Only Mrs. Bryant, her hands trembling so badly that she had to clasp them, said to the newcomer: