“Now,” exclaimed the little man, dancing about. “Any of you know a young lady who wears her black hair high, and has rather slanting Spanish eyes?”
“Here?” Norma asked.
“Anywhere.”
“There was one at Fort Des Moines,” Norma hesitated. “But that—that’s a long way off.”
“Was she in training?”
“No. One of our hairdressers.”
“Ah!” The little man whistled between his teeth. “Just the type! You haven’t seen her here?”
“No.”
Mr. Sperry asked the other girls about the hairdresser. Some recalled her and some did not. Watching out of the corner of her eye, Norma thought she saw Lena start as her name was called.
“Oh, yes. I remember her,” she said in a low drawl. “She did my hair many times. She was really good. But I don’t see—”