“I suppose by that you mean you’re head over heels in another mystery. I know the symptoms by this time. You always get thoughtful and crawl into your old clam shell.”
“Why my clam shell?” Nancy laughed good-naturedly.
“Because when you’re working on a mystery a fellow can’t get a word out of you.”
“Well, I don’t mind telling you this time what I’m working on.”
“What?” Helen demanded eagerly.
“The Crandall jewelry mystery.”
“Oh, I read all about it in the newspapers! Poor Emily! I felt so sorry for her. If a thing like that happened to me I never would stop talking about my hard luck.”
“Emily doesn’t do very much talking.”
“No, she always was the quiet sort. Then, I suppose she’s trying to shield her guardian. She was devoted to Mrs. Willoughby. Tell me, Nancy, do you think Mrs. Willoughby took the jewels herself?”
“I wish I knew, Helen. I never attempted to solve a more baffling case.”
“Haven’t you any clues at all?”
“On the contrary, I have too many of them. Everyone accuses everyone else and anyone might be guilty. However, I don’t intend to give up until I’ve recovered the jewels.”
“I certainly admire your pluck,” Helen said enviously. “I wish I had your brains, too.”