“Oh, no,” she protested, but without conviction in her accents; “neither of them would be so foolish....”
“I’d find out, if I were you.”
“I shall. Meanwhile—this Miss Searle—where’s she stopping?”
“I can’t tell you—some hotel. It’ll be easy enough to find her in the morning.”
“Will you try?”
“Assuredly—the first thing.”
“Then—there appears to be nothing else to do but go home,” said the woman in a curiously subdued manner.
Without replying verbally, Staff took up her chiffon wrap and draped it over her shoulders.
“Thank you,” said she, moving toward the door. “Good night.”
“Oh,” he protested politely, “I must see you out.”