Roy stopped and stared with wide-open mouth.
“I—I beg your pardon, ma-am!” he faltered, uncertain whether he had imagined it. “Did you speak?”
“Revenge!” said the voice again. Roy gasped.
“Harry!” he exclaimed incredulously.
“S-sh! Would you betray all?”
“Oh, but you’re a sight!” said Roy, standing off to obtain a better view of her. “Where’d you get the clothes, Harry?” Then he leaned up against the opposite railing of the porch and gave way to mirth. Harry stamped her foot and thumped the silver-handled umbrella.
“Roy Porter, you’re just as mean as you can be!” she declared aggrievedly. “And you can do your own detecting!”
“But, Harry,” Roy gasped, “if you could only see the way you look!”
“I don’t care; I fooled you all right enough, Mister Smarty!”