“I’ll be in San Francisco day after tomorrow,” Vicki said.
“Wonderful. If Lucy is back by then, won’t you try to telephone her and give her my love? All I have is her last address in Sutro Heights in the suburbs, it’s five years old—I think Mr. Dorn mentioned that she had moved in with friends in the city, in order to be nearer her place of employment. I wish I had thought to write down that firm name, but we are leaving everything, all the details, to Mr. Dorn.”
“Do you think Mr. Dorn will consider that I’m interfering? I wouldn’t want to cause any—any complications for him.”
“I don’t see how you could.” Mrs. Bryant went to her desk for Lucy’s last address, and copied it for Vicki. “It might be more tactful, though, not to let Mr. Dorn know that you are taking part.” Vicki agreed. “And let’s not mention it to my husband, either,” Mrs. Bryant said with a gleam of mischief. “Here’s the address, my dear. Thank you very, very much.”
“Don’t say that yet, Mrs. Bryant. First, let’s see what I can do.”
She thanked Mrs. Bryant for her hospitality, and said good-by. Mrs. Bryant walked to the front door with Vicki, and stood looking after her as she went down the marble steps. She looked so hopeful and yet afraid to hope that Vicki thought:
“I’m going to do everything I can to help those two old people.”
CHAPTER IV
A Puzzling Discovery
“I don’t even want to hear anyone suggest that we go sightseeing around San Francisco today,” said Jean Cox from the other twin bed, on Monday morning. “I want to stay right here in our nice hotel room and sleep.”