CHAPTER XXIV. They found a cosy little table in the tea-rooms, and everything was delicious. I would like you to believe that the decision I have arrived at—to stay away—is wholly and entirely to save you pain. She was practicing with them on that very day, and displaced a rather mediocre boy violinist who claimed “to be better at the viola anyway” as first chair. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. She had never imagined life was half so sinister as it looked to her in the beginning of these investigations. Rubbishy novels and pernicious rascals. At this moment, his quick ears detected the sound of footsteps on the stairs. One or the other. Plays Beethoven, Rubenstein and all those chaps. “Veronica!” cried Miss Stanley, warningly, and, “Peter!” For a moment they seemed on the verge of an altogether desperate scuffle.
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