“It certainly looks that way.” Vance glanced at his watch. “And your mention of the Winter Garden reminds me. Do you mind if we dine early? Frivolity beckons me to-night. I’m going to the ‘Scandals.’ ”
We both looked at him as though he had taken leave of his senses.
“Don’t be so horrified, my Markham. Why should I not indulge an impulse? . . . And, incidentally, I hope to have glad tidings for you by lunch-time to-morrow.”
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Trap
(Friday, September 14; noon)
Vance slept late the following day. I had accompanied him to the “Scandals” the night before, utterly at a loss to understand his strange desire to attend a type of entertainment which I knew he detested. At noon he ordered his car, and instructed the chauffeur to drive to the Belafield Hotel.
“We are about to call again on the allurin’ Alys,” he said. “I’d bring posies to lay at her shrine, but I fear dear Mannix might question her unduly about them.”
Miss La Fosse received us with an air of crestfallen resentment.
“I might’ve known it!” She nodded her head with sneering perception. “I suppose you’ve come to tell me the cops found out about me without the slightest assistance from you.” Her disdain was almost magnificent. “Did you bring ’em with you? . . . A swell guy you are!—But it’s my own fault for being a damn fool.”
Vance waited unmoved until she had finished her contemptuous tirade. Then he bowed pleasantly.