“Yes,” he continued, clearly in answer to words from the other end of the wire, “I brought her home with me. I didn’t know what else to do. I thought somebody might have inquired at the theatre about her. If they do, you’ll let me know right away, won’t you? She’ll probably be with us here until she’s claimed.”
He hung up the receiver. His eyes were unusually bright.
“Here? Who?” demanded Flora.
Baron beamed upon her. “Flora!” he cried. “I’m glad you’ve come. Something has happened!”
“Who’s here?”
“The renowned actress, Bonnie May.”
“Please tell me!” she begged, as if he had made no response at all.
“A little lost girl.” Then Baron briefly explained.
Miss Baron’s eyes fairly danced. “What an adventure!” She added presently: “Is she—nice?”
“Nice? That’s a woman’s first question every time, isn’t it?” Baron reflected. “I suppose so. I know she’s pretty—the very prettiest thing!”