Mrs. Bryant said, “I believe, Mr. Dorn, you told us your mother still lives in Chicago?”
“Yes, I sometimes go home week ends to see her. Very occasionally.”
“Of course. Well—I think my husband is waiting to see you.”
“Oh, yes. Will you excuse me, Mrs. Bryant? Miss—ah—” He had forgotten her name. The young lawyer followed Mr. Bryant into the library.
Vicki felt that it was time to say good-by to her hostess. But Mrs. Bryant led her back into the room with the parakeets. By now the sun had moved to the far end of the room, and the birds were asleep. Mrs. Bryant took Vicki’s hand.
“I hope all this talk about our granddaughter wasn’t dull for you.”
“On the contrary, Mrs. Bryant! I couldn’t help thinking ‘Suppose it were my grandparents whom I’d never seen, who were looking for me—’”
“You’re sympathetic, Vicki. I wonder—You’re going to be in San Francisco often?” Vicki nodded. “Then I wonder whether I could ask you to do me a great favor—but only if it won’t take too much of your time.”
Vicki said, and meant it, that if the favor had anything to do with Lucy, she would be only too happy to give it her free time.
Mrs. Bryant smiled. “Then I wish very much that you’d see whether you can learn anything further about our granddaughter. While I have every confidence in Mr. Dorn and his careful, discreet approach, this delay is very hard. Even another week or ten days seem such a long time to wait.”