“Oh, I admit her charms,” muttered Ellery. “But they’re a bit obvious, don’t you think?” He was trying not to look up at the second-story windows, where her bedroom undoubtedly was. “Laurel, we can’t park here in the driveway like a couple of adenoidal tourists―” He had to see her again. Just to see her.
Laurel gave him an odd look and drove off. She turned left at the road, driving slowly.
Ellery sat embracing his knees. He had the emptiest feeling that he was losing something with each spin of the Austin’s wheels.-And there was Laurel, seeing the road ahead and something else, too. Sturdy little customer. And she must be feeling pretty much alone. Ellery suddenly felt himself weakening.
“What do you intend to do, Laurel?”
“Keep poking around.”
“You’re determined to go through with this?”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I’ll make out.”
“Laurel, I’ll tell you what I’ll do.”
She looked at him.
“I’ll go as far as that note with you ― I mean, give you a head start, anyway. If, of course, it’s possible.”