“Yes.”
“And you know the Davis ladies are twins.”
“Yes.”
“Well, one twinnie wanted to show a family piece and the other twinnie objected,” Babs continued, in a voice as even as a tape line put through the phonograph.
“She would. All twinnies are that way. Go ahead,” proposed Cara a little impatiently.
Barbara sighed. She had secretly gone over the details of the loss so often since Miss Davis came this morning, that her weary brain fairly pricked in dismay at encountering the subject in word form.
“Miss Davis brought a little ship model, one of those old-time murderous, pirate-prisoner sailing things,” she began bravely, “and it has disappeared.”
“Disappeared! Do you mean the famous Davis model of Columbus’ Santa Maria?” Cara almost stopped her car unconsciously, in surprise.
“Yes,” said Babs, from tightened lips.
“Oh, how dreadful! How did it disappear? How could it, I mean?”