“What something?”
“I don’t know. But you are not—not happy. What is it?”
“Hungry,” said Dorothy, shortly. “Do stop primping now and come on down to breakfast.”
“Well, you must be savagely hungry then, if it makes you like this,” grumbled Tavia. “And it is an hour before our usual breakfast time.”
They went down in the elevator to the lower floor, Tavia carrying the precious bag. She would not trust it out of her sight again, she said, as long as a penny was left in it.
She attempted to go over to the clerk’s desk at the far side of the lobby to ask for the details of the recovery of her bag; but there were several men at the desk and Dorothy stopped her.
“Wait until he is more at leisure,” she advised Tavia. “And until there are not so many men about.”
“Oh, nonsense!” ejaculated Tavia, but she turned to follow Dorothy. Then she added: “Ah, there is one you won’t mind speaking to——”
“Where?” cried Dorothy, stopping instantly.
“Going into the dining-room,” said Tavia.