“I’ll be damned.—Excuse me. Nero Wolfe doesn’t permit me to swear in front of ladies. And Dora Chapin got here at six-thirty. Well. When did she leave?”
“It always takes her three-quarters of an hour, so she left at a quarter past seven.” She paused to calculate. “Yes, that would be right. A few minutes later, perhaps. I figured that I had fifteen minutes to finish dressing.”
“So Dora Chapin left here at seven-twenty and Paul Chapin arrived at half past. That’s interesting; they almost collided. Who else was here after six o’clock?”
“No one. That’s all. My daughter left around half past six, a little before Dora came. Of course I don’t understand — what is it, Alice?”
A door had opened behind me, and I turned to see. It was the woman, the old friend. She said:
“Nick Cabot is on the phone — they notified him. He wants to know if you want to talk to him.”
Mrs. Burton’s dark eyes flashed aside for an instant, at me. I let my head go sideways enough for her to see it. She spoke to her friend, “No, there is nothing to say. I won’t talk to anyone. Are you folks finding something to eat?”
“We’ll make out. Really, Anne, I think—”
“Please, Alice. Please—”
After a pause the door closed again. I had a grin inside, a little cocky. I said, “You started to say, something you don’t understand...”