“Just the same, please listen to what I found out,” Vicki pleaded.
The butler came in to say that Mr. Thurman Dorn was at the door, and asked whether the Bryants would see him.
“We certainly will see him!” Mr. Bryant said. “Right away! Lucky for us he’s here.”
Mrs. Bryant murmured that this seemed to be their day for coincidences. Vicki said, “This is no coincidence, either, Mrs. Bryant. Mr. Dorn has just flown in from San Francisco where he was yesterday—intending to stop me from bringing Lucy to you.”
Marshall Bryant stared at her as if she were out of her mind, and the false Lucy smiled pityingly.
They waited for Dorn. Lucy said to Vicki, very low, “This is scarcely the reception I’d dreamed of.”
Dorn came in. His suit was rumpled, as if he had slept in it all night. However, he was as self-possessed as ever, and gave Vicki and her Lucy a look of utter contempt.
“I see these two fakers beat me here,” he said. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Bryant, Lucy. How are you, sir? May I impose on your hospitality and ask for some hot coffee? I’ve just flown to San Francisco and back on your behalf. I flew all last night on a wretchedly slow coach plane, a long, roundabout Dallas-Memphis local,” he said disgustedly. “The only plane I could get on last night without a reservation—”
He sank into a chair. Vicki and Lucy exchanged glances. Getting here before Dorn hadn’t done them much good. Marshall Bryant spoke to him sympathetically while Mrs. Bryant ordered the coffee.
Vicki decided to attack Dorn before he could attack her.