"
"Yes, I should, but I promised Mrs. Fairfield not to."
When at last Patty reached her own little boudoir, she declared she
was more tired than she had realised. So Louise took off her pretty
frock, and Patty sat in her blue silk dressing gown while the maid
brushed her hair. Then she brought her a cup of hot milk, and left
her for the night.
Patty wasn't sleepy, and she dawdled around her room, now and then
sipping the milk, and then looking over her engagements for the next
day.
"Oh," she thought, suddenly, "I've left my fan at the party. I'm
sorry, for it's my pet fan. Of course it will be safe there, but I
think I'll telephone Marie to look it up and put it away."
Knowing that the Homers would not yet have retired, Patty picked up
her telephone and called the number.
A masculine voice gave back a cheery "Hello!"
"Is this Mr. Homer?" said Patty.
"No, indeed. I'm Kit Cameron. Who are you, please?"
"Isn't this The Wimbledon apartment house?"
"It sure is."
"Isn't this 6483?"
"No, it's 6843. Please tell me who you are?"
A spirit of mischief entered into Patty. She knew this must be Marie
Homer's cousin, who lived on the floor above the Homers, and who,
Mrs.
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