“No. Nina telephoned to me this morning while I was out.” She handed him her empty coffee cup to put down. “I haven’t seen Ben since the day of the inquest.”
Rodgers hesitated a moment. “Forgive the question—but—are you and he great friends?”
Kitty regarded him gravely. “Not great friends; we sometimes have spats,” she admitted. A mischievous smile brought out her pretty dimples. “Our last dispute was on the subject of deportment and dress. I do not see how Nina stands his Puritanical ideas.”
“Doesn’t he approve of gay colors?”
“Gay colors!” Kitty laughed outright. “I should say not. Why, he nearly had a fit whenever I appeared in my red coat.”
“He is a man of queer ideas,” Rodgers commented dryly. “The red coat was most becoming to you. By the way, I haven’t seen you wear it lately.”
“I am having the coat dyed—” Seeing his surprised expression, she added, “Not because Ben disliked the color, but it was too faded.”
“Did you take the coat to be dyed?” asked Rodgers, and she wondered at the persistency of his gaze.
“No. I gave it to Aunt Susan one day last week.” Kitty sat bolt upright. “Dear me, I wonder at which cleaning establishment she left the coat.”
“You have no idea where it is?”