Plenty happened, for at that moment Sam Wilkins, the huge colored cook, was bringing in a large tray of ice water. There was a loud crash. Two glasses fell to the floor, and the man himself almost lost his balance.
Sam's usual smile faded. "Ain't you seen that sign, nohow?" he demanded pointing a long, black finger at the word "Private."
"Why how stupid of me!" Bet tried to look innocent. "Was that there all the time? Imagine me not seeing it!" There was remorse in her voice but a merry twinkle in her eyes that did not escape Sam.
"Maybe you can't read yet," he said, frowning.
Bet bestowed on him one of her compelling smiles. "I'm very sorry," she said with her sweetest accent. "I'll promise never to come in here again—that is unless you want me to see your darling kitchen. I know I'd just love it."
Sam's white teeth showed in a broad smile. After that, he was willing to do anything for Bet Baxter. He ushered her into his kitchen as if she were a queen.
When Bet came back triumphantly to the drawing room a few minutes later, Enid greeted her with a shake of her head:
"You certainly have a way with you, Bet Baxter. No one can resist you, no one!"
"What about Edith Whalen?" Bet reminded her.
"Oh, that girl!" said Enid contemptuously.