"But say," I protests; "we just trailed her here. Get that? We was right on her heels when she struck the elevator. And the Captain was with her."
"No coom," says Helma, shakin' her head solemn.
"Why, you she-Ananias, you!" I gasps. "Do you mean to tell me that—"
"I beg pardon," says a familiar acetic acid voice behind us—and I turns to see Auntie steppin' out of the elevator. "Were you looking for someone?" she goes on.
"You've guessed it," says I. "In fact, we was—"
"Madam," breaks in Mr. Ellins, "will you kindly tell me what you have done with Captain Rupert Killam?"
"Certainly, Mr. Ellins," says Auntie. "Won't you step in?"
"I should prefer to be told here, at once," says Old Hickory.
"My preference," comes back Auntie, "if I must be cross-examined, is to undergo the process in the privacy of my own library, not in a public hallway."
Well, there was nothing else to it. We could either stay out there and stare at the door, or follow her in. So in we goes. And maybe Vee's gray eyes don't open some wide as she views the procession streamin' in. She glances at me inquirin'. I throws up both hands and shakes my head, indicatin' that it was beyond words.