Then she spoke, and as the toad words vibrated with life in her voice, the moment passed: “Eas’ Hun’erd thuyty-thuyd. Stayin’ with a girl friend there.”
They were waiting for a traffic light to change and she exchanged a haughty glance with a flushed man peering from a flanking taxi. The man took off his hat hilariously. “Somebody’s stenog,” he cried. “And oh, what a stenog!”
An arm and hand appeared in the taxi window and pulled him back into the darkness of the cab.
Miss Delehanty turned to Jacob, a frown, the shadow of a hair in breadth, appearing between her eyes. “A lot of ‘em know me,” she said. “We got a lot of publicity and pictures in the paper.”
“I’m sorry it turned out badly.”
She remembered the event of the afternoon, apparently for the first time in half an hour. “She had
