"Can't blame him for that."
"Well, then: the only way I can account for his having found me in Chicago is on the theory that he employed detectives. But of course I'd made it easy for them by using my own name wherever I went."
"Why don't you use another name, then?"
"Just what Fanny and I were saying. If I don't, Bel—Mr. Druce—is sure to follow me to Los Angeles, sooner or later, and make more scenes. I'd like to avoid that, if I can."
"Surest thing you know, he'll find out, if the Los Angeles newspapers ever discover Mrs. Bellamy Druce of New York is in the civic midst. The best little thing they do is print scare-head stories about distinguished visitors and the flattering things they say about our pretty village."
"That settles it, then: I'm going to be somebody else for a while. Help me choose a good, safe nom de guerre, please."
"Let's see: Mrs. Lontaine calls you Cindy...."
"Short for Lucinda."
"How about Lee? Lucinda Lee?"
"I like that. But it does sound like the movies, doesn't it?"