“Oh talk, talk, and gossip,” Ruth interposed. “Just because he sees fit to keep his business to himself—”
“You know perfectly well, Ruth, that is more than gossip,” insisted Vera.
“What is? What’s the mystery?” again demanded Nancy, dropping her box of lead pencils rather suddenly.
“Well,” drawled Vera, getting up with a tantalizing deliberateness, “if you were to see a person in front of you one minute and have him vanish the next—”
A peal of laughter from Nancy broke in rudely upon Vera’s recitation.
“All right,” Vera added, in a hurt tone. “Don’t believe me if you don’t want to, but just wait and see.”
“Disappearing Dick?” chanted Nancy gaily. “Do you mean to say he’s one of those so-called miracle men?”
“Oh, no, nothing of the sort,” protested Ruth. “But there is something—different about him. A lot of people say he does disappear, but of course, there’s nothing uncanny about it. It’s probably just clever,” Ruth tried to explain.
“Rather,” drawled Vera.
And Nancy could not suppress an impolite but insistent chuckle.