“All the time, she has been one of Aunt Winnie’s tenants,” explained Dorothy. “But of course I did not know that.”
“Then she must have told you about it,” said Cologne.
“We’ve heard nothing,” said Dorothy, “but we expect to call there to-morrow.”
“Then,” said Cologne discreetly, “I can say no more.”
Soon the last act was over, the orchestra struck up a popular tune, the applause was deafening, and the audience rose to leave the theatre.
“It’s all over,” said Ned, and then he greeted Cologne and her friend, Helen Roycroft.
“Didn’t you like it?” exclaimed Cologne’s friend, who was a New York girl. “The critics just rave over it! Everyone must see it before anything else! But I’m hungry; aren’t you?” she asked, including all three.
Ned slipped back, but Tavia grasped his arm.
“There’s the most wonderful little tea-room just off Fifth Avenue,” said Helen Roycroft, with perfect self-possession and calm, “and I should so love to have you enjoy a cup of tea with me.”
Tavia murmured in Ned’s ear: “Of course you’re crazy for a cup of tea.”