“Oh, all right,” her eyes clouded, “you were awfully drunk last night. I’m still a little angry with you.”
I wasn’t sure but this seemed the new Myra again. “I wasn’t so bad,” I said, “tell me, what happened? You know what I mean.”
She went over and sat on the bed, “I’m scared,” she said, “I dreamed things again. I dreamed that someone came into this room and got into my body. Then you woke me up. Weren’t some clothes on that chair when you came in, or did I dream it?”
“There were,” I said, looking at her uneasily. “Why do you ask?”
“Because they’re not here now,” she returned, “Oh, Ross, what’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” I said, sure now that Doc Ansell was right. There were two of them. It seemed incredible, but everything pointed to it. “You’re not to worry. Look, I’ve got to go out. Maybe we might lunch together.”
Her face brightened. “Lovely,” she said, “what time and where?”
I looked at the clock. It was already late. “Meet me at Manerta’s in a couple of hours and we’ll talk.”
“All right,” she said. “But, do you think it’ll do any good?”
“I don’t know, but there are things I want to discuss with you.” I turned to the door, “Don’t worry, and leave Whisky home, will you? I want you to myself.”