“Mrs. Gabriel—” repeated the society woman, mulling over the name. “I’m quite sure I never have heard of her, or her garden. Why would she order tulips at this time of year? Perhaps it was for fall delivery. No doubt that was it, Vevi. Mr. Van Der Lann turned down the business, because this isn’t a good time to plant bulbs. Any that were bought now would have to be held until Fall.”
Mrs. Langley was called away just then and so said no more about Mrs. Gabriel. However, the man in gray moved over to where Vevi stood.
“Hello, little girl,” he greeted her. And in a friendly voice, he asked: “Which lady is Mrs. Gabriel? Is she the one in the darkblue dress?”
“Oh, no, that is Mrs. Howard,” Vevi answered. “Mrs. Gabriel is over by the door, talking to Peter Van Der Lann.”
“The owner of Windmill Farm?”
Vevi merely nodded and did not answer. She had begun to wonder why the man asked so many curious questions.
“Say, you must be a detective,” she declared, after studying him a moment.
The man only smiled. He started to ask Vevi another question, but before he could do so, Mrs. Langley clapped her hands to attract everyone’s attention.
The room became very quiet.
“The judges are ready to award the prize ribbons,” announced the garden club president. “Clear the aisles, please. In a moment now, we will know which tulip is considered the best in the show.”