Eleanor had just risen when he returned. She was wearing a light green, very sheer negligee that was part of her new wardrobe. He thought she was pale and thinner.
“Dear old Duff! I’m so glad you’re home!” She was suddenly embarrassed. “Oh, doggone it! When I called down, mother said you were out. I’m a fright! You can kiss me if you can stand it.”
“I just can.” He grinned and kissed her cheek.
She stepped back and surveyed him. “Come in the kitchen!” When they were there and the swinging door had shut, she went ont, “Duff, what happened? Mother told me you’d gone right off to see Mr. Higgins.”
He nodded.
“Where’s Scotty?”
“Went back to his place. Tired. We flew down in a private plane. Didn’t sleep any too well.”
“Tell me all about it! Your trip! Why on earth didn’t you tell us what you were doing?”
Duff walked over to the stove and poured coffee for himself. He felt as if he needed a dozen cups. He refilled her cup and added the two teaspoons of sugar she liked. “Look, Eleanor. What Scotty and I were doing was checking the tracking places. We didn’t find anything important. And from now on the FBI is taking over — whatever there is to take over.
I’m out of it. And I promised to quit talking about it to a living soul. And I’m dead tired.”