"Have you seen your friend, Miss Gresham, lately?"
"Hazel? I'll say I have—although she's horribly weepy since poor Roland was killed. Of course, I'm not heartless or anything like that; but what's the use of crying all the time when there are just as good fish in the sea as ever were caught? I told her that, but it don't seem to do a single bit of good. She just keeps saying, 'Poor Roland is dead,' just as if I didn't know it as well as she does—him having been crazy about me even before he was about her. I'm sort of afraid it's gone to the poor girl's head. She's simply horribly upset!"
"That's not unnatural, is it?"
"No-o, I suppose not; but it's terribly old-fashioned."
"Does she—discuss the affair much?"
"All the time."
"What does she think about the woman in the taxicab?"
"You mean the woman who killed him?"
"Yes."
"Well!" positively. "If I was that woman, I'd hate to meet Hazel
Gresham—if Hazel knew it!"