Doc Ansell came in just then. “Found Whisky?” he asked anxiously.
“Don’t get excited,” I said. “He’ll turn up. He’s just finding his feet. A big dog like that wants some exercise and he’s having a look around.”
Ansell looked at Myra, “Well,” he said, smiling, “how pretty you look this morning. Did you have a nice lunch?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said, pulling off her hat. “It was very nice.”
Sam said, “Aint you worried about Whisky?”
She blinked, “Why, no. If Ross thinks…”
“Ross?” Sam’s eyes opened, “Gee! Have you two gone soft on each other?”
Myra turned on me. “You’d better tell them,” she said and ran out of the room. Ansell and Sam looked at me suspiciously. “What’s buzzin’?” Sam demanded.
I wandered over to an armchair and sat down. “I don’t know,” I returned. “A lot’s happened since I last saw you,” and I told them about Peppi and Andasca and Lydia Brandt.
They sat listening in silence, then Doc said, “I’ve heard of Andasca. He’s no good to anyone.”