CHAPTER XIV
THE MISSES HARRISON
Landis walked to the hanging Japanese gongs and tapped a scale on their inverted bowls, his touch soft and funereal to suit the occasion. The door of Isabelle Harrison’s bedroom opened and Miss Mount appeared upon the balcony above. At the same moment Anita Harrison opened her door and they saw her near the head of the stairs.
Bernard, a great believer in first impressions, took stock of Anita. Miss Mount ignored him and addressed Landis.
“You wanted me?” she inquired evenly.
“We’d like a few words with one of the young ladies, please. Sorry it’s necessary. We won’t keep her long.”
“This is Miss Anita Harrison,” said Miss Mount.
The girl swung around the stairhead and swiftly descended, her short skirt fluttering about her pretty knees. Half way down she slackened to a more dignified pace, her attractive dark eyes on Landis. At the foot she halted and looked up from one to the other, a hint of feminine challenge in her manner.
“Well?” she asked.
“We’ll invite you into your own drawing-room,” said Landis pleasantly.