“Of course we’ll be delighted to go. And we’d better go at once,” Dorothy said, without hesitation. “I’m ready. Are you, Tavia?”
“You dear!” whispered Tavia, squeezing her arm as they followed Garry Knapp from the dining-room. “I never before knew you to be so amenable where a young man was concerned.”
“Is that so?” drawled Dorothy, but hid her face from her friend’s sharp eyes.
It was late, but a fine, bright, dry evening when the trio came out of the theatre and walked slowly toward their hotel. On the block in the middle of which the Fanuel was situated there were but few pedestrians. As they approached the main entrance to the hotel a girl came slowly toward them, peering, it seemed, sharply into their faces.
She was rather shabbily dressed, but was not at all an unattractive looking girl. Dorothy noticed that her passing glance was for Garry Knapp, not for herself or for Tavia. The young man had half dropped behind as they approached the hotel entrance and was saying:
“I think I’ll take a brisk walk for a bit, having seen you ladies home after a very charming evening. I feel kind of shut in after that theatre, and want to expand my lungs.”
“Good-night, then, Mr. Knapp,” Dorothy said lightly. “And thank you for a pleasant evening.”
“Ditto!” Tavia said, hiding a little yawn behind her gloved fingers.
The girls stepped toward the open door of the hotel. Garry Knapp wheeled and started back the way they had come. Tavia clutched her chum’s arm with excitement.
“Did you see that girl?”