Landis assumed his gravest expression, for Isabelle had turned piteous, unintelligent eyes on him.
“I was frightened,” she gasped, “b-because I thought you’d found it in ’Nita’s room and you’d know I’d fibbed!”
“Oh, you weren’t in your room from six-thirty on!” said Bernard ominously. “We suspected as much! When were you in Anita’s room and why?”
“I—I quarreled with my fiancé this afternoon because he flirted with ’Nita! When we got home I went in and had a row with ’Nita about it. But she just laughed at me!” An angry, baffled light shone in Isabelle’s blue eyes. “Some day I’ll—I’ll—” she hesitated.
“You’ll what!”
“I’ll slap her!” cried Isabelle viciously.
A cough attacked Landis. Bernard maintained his gravity.
“What time were you in Anita’s room?”
“About half-past six—or just a minute after.”
“Where else did you go, Miss Harrison? Careful now!”