"Might I?"
Unexpectedly Mr. Crockett looked away from Jennie. He looked at Merriam, thoughtfully--a disconcerting thoughtfulness. Then he turned back to Jennie.
"Perhaps I might," he said, with a faint smile.
Merriam read his mind. He was sure he did. The man might or might not be slightly attracted by Jennie's prettiness, but what he was thinking was that he would be able to get more out of her than he had been able to get from Merriam. The latter at once perceived that Jennie's melodramatic scheme was dangerous and silly. It might have been all right with Thompson, but not with this man. She hadn't sense enough to see the difference. But he could do nothing to stop her.
Already she had cried, "Oh, goody!" like a little girl.
She stepped past Mr. Crockett, brushing him with her skirts, put her hands on his shoulders and began playfully to push him towards the dining room.
"It's all ready," she was saying. "We got it for the man inside, but he says he isn't hungry. We have sandwiches and olives and cheese and beer--and there's whiskey, if you like."
"I'll take beer," said Mr. Crockett, mustering a certain lightness and allowing himself to be pushed.
Merriam looked at Margery, still standing by the bureau. She too had changed her costume. She now wore an evening dress of black and gold, in which she looked very well, rather brilliant, in fact. But what Merriam noticed was the understanding look in her eyes. She had read Mr. Crockett's purpose as clearly as he had.
"We'll be careful," she said. "You did fine. Shall I turn out the light?"