“Oklahoma.”

He slapped his leg a resounding thwack. “I knew it! I’m hardly ever mistaken. Name’s — wait a minute — Pardee, isn’t it?”

“Yes. But how — — ”

“One of the best meals I ever had in my life, Miss Pardee. Two years ago, it was. I was lecturing on Thibet and the Far East.”

“Lecturing?” Her part of the conversation was beginning to sound a good deal like the dialogue in a badly written play.

“Yes, I’m Brainerd, you know. I thought you knew, when you spoke up there on the veranda.”

“Brainerd?” It was almost idiotic.