“Who’s she?” “Don’t be so stupid,” cried Isabel, her eyes flashing with anger. That drunken slut we met at that filthy café you took us to. God knows why you took us to a place like that. Gray was disgusted.” “Oh, you mean your Chicago friend?” I said, ignoring her unjust reproach. “How d’you know?” “How should I know? He came and told me himself yesterday afternoon. I’ve been frantic ever since.”
