“And you won’t tell me anything about your crime?” Nora pouted.
“Meet me in the Pagoda in five minutes,” he whispered, “and I will. It’s mighty nice to see a pretty girl again who can talk American.”
“As if men cared what girls say,” she observed sagely. “It’s the way they look that counts.”
When Monty was gone she strolled back to where Alice was sitting.
“Did you have a good trip?” she demanded.
“Bully,” Alice answered her. “Steven Denby’s most attractive and mysterious.”
“Denby!” Harrington repeated. “Why, I’d clean forgotten about Denby. Where is he?”
“The limousine was so full of Monty and me and my hand-baggage that we sent him on in the other car. He had to send some telegrams, so he didn’t overtake us till we were this side of Jamaica, where they promptly had a blow-out. He won’t be long.”
“What Mr. Denby is he?” Nora asked with interest.
“Yes,” Michael asked, “do I know him? I don’t think I ever heard of him.”