"I'd heard Miss Hesketh was a great one for jollying up the men and I
wanted to hear how she did it."
And they all--that means Babbitts, too--just burst out and _roared_.
"Good for you, Miss Morganthau," said Mr. Whitney, and he put his hand
on my shoulder and gave it a shake. "Only I'll bet a hat you didn't need
any teaching."
He turned to his son and said something about "the car being there," and
then back to me:
"Now for a few days, Miss Morganthau, I'll expect you to be off duty in
a place accessible by telephone."
"Off duty!" I exclaimed. "How can I do that?"
He smiled in his easy way and said:
"We'll attend to that, don't you worry about it. Go home and stay there
till you get a call from me. If anyone asks what's the matter say you're
ill and laid off for a few days. Don't bother about reporting at the
office; that'll be arranged. And I need hardly tell you not to speak a
word of what you've discovered or of this interview here to-night."
"She won't," said Babbitts. "I'll go bail for that."
He gave Mr. George Whitney Mrs. Galway's telephone number and then we
shook hands all round. I was just wondering what was the quickest way to
the Ferry when Mr. Whitney said:
"The motor's waiting for you and I'm sure Mr. Babbitts will escort you
to the boat. Good night and remember--hold yourself ready for a call to
come to my office."
The car waiting outside was Mr. Whitney's own. Gee, it was swell! A
footwarmer and a fur rug and a clock and a bottle of salts for me to
sniff at. I didn't tell Babbitts I'd had no dinner, for I was ashamed to
have the chauffeur stop at the kind of joints we patronize, and so I
bore the ache in my insides and tried to believe the footwarmer and the
salts made up for it.