“And if I had been working, I would have had to tell how long and when, why I quit, and all the rest. All the same,” Norma spoke slowly, guardedly,—“spies have gotten into every sort of place, so—”
“So you think we have a spy?” The Lieutenant’s voice was low. “Anything you’d like to tell me?”
“No. Not—not yet.”
“Okay. Let’s skip it. But just one thing. We all need to be careful about members of our organization who are children of the foreign-born. It’s easy to do them an injustice. Too easy. They form a large group in our population. Take that little Italian girl over there. She’s an attractive young lady.”
“That’s true,” Norma agreed.
“And that big girl—Lena. Her parents are foreign-born. What a truck driver she’d make!”
“Yes—Oh yes. Sure she would.”
The Lieutenant gave Norma a short, sharp look.
Nothing more was said. A moment later Millie stood by their table. There was a worried look on the shopgirl’s face.
“Wasn’t that terrible?” She did not smile.