Sprague--didn't think of it,
too. It's as plain as--"
"Yes, as the nose on my face," Dundee cut in grimly, but with a glance
at Strawn. "Just stick to the facts, however, Miss Raymond, and maybe we
can all agree with you."
"Well, when Mr. Sprague and I went into the dining room, there were Lois
and Tracey cutting up like a couple of children," Janet began,
determined to take her time. "When they saw us, Lois said: 'Good Lord,
Tracey! Get busy! Or your job as bartender will be taken away from you,'
and Tracey began to shake cocktails at the sideboard--"
"Guess I'd better tell it, Janet, for what it's worth," Lois cut in
impatiently. "It's nothing more nor less than that I had to ring twice
for poor Lydia before she came," she explained to Dundee. "Tracey is
full of original ideas about cocktails, and wanted some sort of bitters.
He was going to shout for Lydia, but I stepped on the button under the
dining table, and the poor thing--in the basement nursing her jaw,
probably--didn't hear. Tracey and I got to kidding, as Janet says, and
had scarcely noticed how long Lydia was in coming. I rang again, and she
came.... That's all!"
"That isn't all!" Janet denied angrily. "I was there when Lydia came
in, and she was looking white as a ghost--except for her swollen jaw.
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