“But wait!” the maid interrupted. “Tell me about Miss Paula! Where is she? Has she had an accident? What—?”
“She’s right here in New York!” Peggy cried. “And I can’t talk more now! I have to stop her parents before they fly off to Europe! Thank you—good-by!”
Peggy hurriedly hung up before the anxious woman could continue her questioning. Swiftly thumbing through the phone book, she picked out the number of the Plaza and dialed.
“I’m sorry,” a smooth clerkish voice answered, “but Mr. and Mrs. Andrews have already checked out.”
“When?” Peggy asked. “What time?”
“About a half hour ago,” the voice said calmly. “I believe they left for the airport.”
“I know,” Peggy said excitedly. “But which airline? Do you know, or is there any way you could find out?”
“One moment, please,” the voice replied. “Perhaps the bell captain knows.”
There was a clatter as the phone was placed on a marble surface, and Peggy waited nervously. In the background, she heard the dim noises of the hotel lobby, the thin sound of a dance tune, occasional small voices. For what seemed an endless stretch of time, she waited. At last, when it seemed that her nerves could stand not one moment more, she heard the phone being picked up.
“The bell captain says they were going to International Airways Terminal, miss,” the helpful voice said. “I’m sorry it took so much time, but I checked the doorman as well, to see if he overheard the taxi directions. Fortunately he did.”