“‘It’s beautiful overhead if you’re going that way,’” Davidge quoted. He set out briskly, but Marie Louise hung back. “Aren’t you afraid to push on when you can’t see where you’re going?” she demanded.
CHAPTER I
She went through her hand-bag again, while the porter computed how many tips he was missing and the cab-starter looked insufferable things about womankind.
She asked if any of them knew where Grinden Hall might be, but they shook their heads. She had a sudden happy idea. She would ask the telephone Information for the number. She hurried to a booth, followed by the despondent porter. She asked for Information and got her, but that was all.
“Please give me the numba of Mrs. Widdicombe’s, in Rosslyn.”
A Washington dialect eventually told her that the number was a private wire and could not be given.
Marie Louise implored a special dispensation, but it was against the rules.