Minerva passed him without so much as a glance and hurriedly entered the booth.
Chick edged nearer to it, remaining as stiff and staid as a wooden Indian within three feet of the drawn curtains, there then being no persons at the near tables for him to serve.
Chick was near enough to hear the first words that came through the curtains of the booth, and most of what followed when the voices of the two women were lowered.
“Hello, Angel Face!” Vera Vantoon exclaimed, clasping both hands of the girl. “Heavens, but you were a long time getting here.”
“Getting here!” echoed Minerva, evidently in nervous excitement. “The getting here cuts no ice. I could have got here long ago. It’s where I’m likely to get after leaving here. That’s what troubles me. I didn’t think you would serve me such a trick, Vera. On my word, I didn’t.”
Vera Vantoon laughed a bit coarsely in cold and mirthless fashion.
“So you are wise to it, now, are you?” she replied.
“How can I help being wise to it? I’ll never forgive you, Vera, never!”
“Don’t be foolish, Angel Face,” returned the woman, still clasping the girl’s hands. “I’ve done you the favor of your life. Think what you’re to gain.”
“A prison cell, mebbe.”