“Yes.” Mrs. Davis looked her surprise at the abruptness of the question. “I—I did not approve of her working so late at night. Mr. Hale is kind in his way, but he is most exacting. The idea of keeping her out until long after midnight on Tuesday, and night before last, and then letting her come home in the street cars! He might at least, have sent her home in his limousine.” Mrs. Davis came to an indignant pause and Latimer looked his sympathy.
“Miss Polly will have no night work to do for me,” he said. “And the office hours are not long—the Stock Exchange closes early, you know, and not much business is transacted after that.”
Mrs. Davis nodded her head wisely. “I realize that,” she agreed. “The stock market appears a bit more lively just now, Mr. Latimer. Tell me,”—and she lowered her voice to a confidential pitch—“how are the Troy Valve bonds rated now?”
“They have picked up five points.” Latimer regarded her in some surprise. “I did not know you took an interest in the stock market, Mrs. Davis.”
She colored painfully. “In former years we were large stockholders,” she said; “now, alas, our securities have shrunk to these of Valve bonds. I must tell Polly what you say. It is always well to sell on a rising market, isn’t it?”
“If you wish to sell, yes,” dryly. Latimer, conscious of the passing time, was having difficulty concealing his uneasiness as he thought of John Hale waiting a block away in his car. In his impatience he might forget the rôle he had cast for Latimer and, instead of awaiting the latter’s return, walk in at any moment and, by incautious questions, betray his own plot to discover Polly’s whereabouts. “How soon will Miss Polly be in?”
“Oh, she is at Markham, Virginia, with my cousin, Mrs. Paul Davis,” she responded easily. “You had best write to her there or, if you prefer, I will write and tell her of your offer.”
“That is kind of you.” Latimer had some difficulty schooling his voice to the proper pitch of enthusiasm for his rôle. “But I must have Miss Polly’s answer to-day. Can we not call her up on the long distance? I see your telephone is in that corner”—and he stepped toward it.
Mrs. Davis stopped him with a gesture. “No use, Mrs. Paul Davis has no telephone,” she stated calmly. “I can send my letter special delivery and she will get it to-day and wire to-morrow morning when the telegraph office is open.”
“That would perhaps be best.” Latimer made no effort, however, to conceal his disappointment. “Is there any chance of Miss Polly’s returning this afternoon?”