“I’m sure no one suspects that we are carrying valuables, Clara. However, I shall feel very much relieved when I have Emily’s receipt for what I am carrying.”
“Mercy, but it’s warm in here—or perhaps it’s the excitement. Don’t you think we should have a window open?”
“By all means, Clara.” Mrs. Willoughby motioned to a waiter. “We would like this window raised,” she told him.
The waiter glanced curiously at the large handbag which rested upon the table, for the clasp was ornate, set rather lavishly with stones, and with a polite bow opened the window. He then took the order and departed.
“Did you notice the way he looked at that purse?” Mrs. Willoughby whispered.
“Yes, I did. But he couldn’t know what was in it, I’m sure.”
“Just the same, I almost wish we hadn’t stopped here. This place is beginning to give me the creeps.”
“I know just how you feel, Jane. I have the same sensation myself—just as if someone were listening to our conversation.”
Mrs. Willoughby laughed nervously.
“Aren’t we silly, Clara? The other diners aren’t paying a particle of attention to us.”
“That woman over in the corner seems to be watching us, Jane. The one with the piercing black eyes. I don’t like her looks.”
Mrs. Willoughby glanced quickly toward the woman indicated and nodded in agreement.