"Did he say what line of goods he was carrying?" she asked.
"No," Jean answered indifferently. The spectacle of the pavement without had already ousted the drummer from her thoughts.
"Or where he lived?"
"Where he lived?" She turned now and saw that the girl's eyes were very bright. "He mentioned that he had boarded here somewhere—Harlem, was it?"
"Harlem!" Amy's pink cheeks turned rose-red. "And did he have a scar, a little white scar, near his eyebrow?"
"I didn't notice."
"I wish you had."
Jean eyed her narrowly.
"I wish I had, too, if it matters so much," she returned.
Amy donned a mask of transparent indifference.