All this while Greg was wondering how she expected to get across the lighted lobby and by the hotel desk without discovery. The question tormented him. Finally he could contain it no longer.
"You can't go in—like that," he blurted out.
She instantly mounted on her high horse. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you know—anybody could see——" he stammered, "anybody could see that you were—well, that you were not a boy."
She sharply averted her head from him. He saw the crimson tide creep up from her neck.
"I don't see what reason you have for saying that," she murmured.
He strove stumblingly to put her at her ease. "Oh, it isn't your clothes. They're all right. You look out o' sight! But—but—well, a girl is different. It's not altogether a matter of looks. I mean the charm of a girl sticks out all over you."
She ignored this. "I'm not going through the lobby," she said abruptly, "but through the service entrance. I bribed the watchman on the way out, and he will let me in again."
Greg breathed more freely. A constrained silence fell between them.
"I'm not altogether a fool!" she presently burst out sorely. "I didn't venture out until long after dark. And I kept away from all brilliantly lighted places. Nobody found me out but you."