Until then he had been unconscious of her guile. But now, suddenly, struck by a hideous suspicion — ”Say, looka here. If you think — — ”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look at ‘em, does it!”

A week later. “Those kitchenette apartments on Sheridan are almost all gone. One of the girls was looking at one on the sixth floor. There’s a view of the lake. The kitchen’s the sweetest thing. All white enamel. And the breakfast room thing is done in Italian.”

“What d’you mean — done in Italian?”

“Why — uh — Italian period furniture, you know. Dark and rich. The living room’s the same. Desk, and table, and lamps.”