Part 19 (2/2)

There was no doubt that Edwin had effected a thorough bolt. He was having quite a pleasant little vacation: Two Weeks in Sunny New York.

And from what I'd seen of him, he seemed to be thriving on it. I didn't wonder Florence had got rather anxious. She'd have been more anxious if she had seen him when I did. He'd got a sort of ”New-York-is-so-bracing” look about him, which meant a whole heap of trouble before he trotted back to the fold.

Well, I started off to interview Mrs. Darrell, and, believe me, I didn't like the prospect. I think they ought to train A. D. T.

messengers to do this sort of thing. I found her alone. The rush hour of clients hadn't begun.

”How do you do, Mr. Pepper?” she said. ”How nice of you to call.”

Very friendly, and all that. It made the situation darned difficult for a fellow, if you see what I mean.

”Say,” I said. ”What about it, don't you know?”

”I certainly don't,” she said. ”What ought I to know about what?”

”Well, about Edwin--Edwin Craye,” I said.

She smiled.

”Oh! So you're an amba.s.sador, Mr. Pepper?”

”Well, as a matter of fact, I did come to see if I could find out how things were running. What's going to happen?”

”Are you consulting me professionally? If so, you must show me your hand. Or perhaps you would rather I showed you mine?”

It was subtle, but I got on to it after a bit.

”Yes,” I said, ”I wish you would.”

”Very well. Do you remember a conversation we had, Mr. Pepper, my last afternoon at the Crayes'? We came to the conclusion that I was rather a vindictive woman.”

”By George! You're stringing old Edwin so as to put one over on Florence?”

She flushed a little.

”How very direct you are, Mr. Pepper! How do you know I'm not very fond of Mr. Craye? At any rate, I'm very sorry for him.”

”He's such a chump.”

”But he's improving every day. Have you seen him? You must notice the difference?”

”There is a difference.”

”He only wanted taking out of himself. I think he found his sister Florence's influence a little oppressive sometimes.”

”No, but see here,” I said, ”are you going to marry him?”

”I'm only a palmist. I don't pretend to be a clairvoyant. A marriage may be indicated in Mr. Craye's hand, but I couldn't say without looking at it.”

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