‘Think she will do as a steady?’
‘She might,’ Tad said, and then as he became aware of this unusual interest he looked up and said: ‘What’s this in aid of?’
‘I’m thinking of deserting you for a day or two, and I’d like to know that you won’t be bored if left to your own devices.’
‘Oh. Oh, no; I’ll be all right. It’s time you took some time off to attend to your own affairs, I guess. After all, this is no trouble of yours. You’ve done far too much as it is.’
‘I’m not taking time off. I’m planning to fly over and see Charles Martin’s people.’
‘People?’
‘His family. They live just outside Marseilles.’
Tad’s face, which had looked for a moment like a lost child’s, grew animated again.
‘What do you reckon to get from them?’
‘I’m not doing any reckoning. I’m just beginning from the other end. We’ve come to a blank wall where Bill Kenrick is concerned—unless his hypothetical girl-friend answers that advertisement and that won’t be for two days at the very least—so we’ll try the Charles Martin end and where we get from there.’