“He's gone,” sobbed Zoie.
“Gone!” echoed Jimmy, feeling sure that his worst fears were about to be realised. “Gone where?”
“I don't know,” sniffled Zoie, “I just 'phoned his office. He isn't there.”
“Oh, is that all?” answered Jimmy, with a sigh of relief. “Just another little family tiff,” he was unable to conceal a feeling of thankfulness. “What's up?”
Zoie measured Jimmy with a dangerous gleam in her eyes. She resented the patronising tone that he was adopting. How dare he be cheerful when she was so unhappy—and because of him, too? She determined that his self-complacency should be short-lived.
“Alfred has found out that I lied about the luncheon,” she said, weighing her words and their effect upon Jimmy.
“What luncheon?” stuttered Jimmy, feeling sure that Zoie had suddenly marked him for her victim, but puzzled as to what form her persecution was about to take.
“What luncheon?” repeated Zoie, trying apparently to conceal her disgust at his dulness. “OUR luncheon yesterday.”
“Why did you LIE,” asked Jimmy, his eyes growing rounder and rounder with wonder.
“I didn't know he KNEW,” answered Zoie innocently.
“Knew what?” questioned Jimmy, more and more befogged.
“That I'd eaten with a man,” concluded Zoie impatiently. Then she turned her back upon Jimmy and again dashed up and down the room occupied with her own thoughts.
It was certainly difficult to get much understanding out of Zoie's disjointed observations, but Jimmy was doing his best. He followed her restless movements about the room with his eyes, and then ventured a timid comment.
“He couldn't object to your eating with me.”
“Oh, couldn't he?” cried Zoie, and she turned upon him with a look of contempt. “If there's anything that he DOESN'T object to,” she continued, “I haven't found it out yet.” And with that she threw herself in a large
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