“Yes. I’ve just checked it up.”
“What’s the milk in that cocoanut?”
“Sour!” said Edmonds with such energy that Banneker turned to look at him direct. “The principal owner of Veridian is named Marrineal.... Where you going, Ban?”
“To see the principal owner of the name,” said Banneker grimly.
The quest took him to the big house on upper Fifth Avenue. Marrineal heard his editorial writer with impassive face.
“So the story has got here,” he remarked.
“Yes. Do you own Veridian?”
“No.”
Hope rose within Banneker. “You don’t?”
“My mother does. She’s in Europe. A rather innocent old person. The innocence of age, perhaps. Quite old.” All of this in a perfectly tranquil voice.