wholly livable and in no sense atmospheric of the museum. Cutty had excellent taste.
She had visited the apartment but twice before, once in her childhood and again when she was eighteen. Cutty had given a dinner in honour of her mother's birthday. She smiled as she recalled the incident. Cutty had placed a box of candles at the side of her mother's plate and told her to stick as many into the cake as she thought best.
"Hello!" said Cutty, emerging from one of the doors. "What the dickens have you been up to? My man has just telephoned me that he lost track of you in Wanamaker's."
Kitty explained, delighted.
"Well, well! If you can lose a man such as I set to watch you, you'll have no trouble shaking the others."
"It was Karlov, Cutty."
"How did you learn?"
"Searched the morgue and found a half tone of him. Positively Karlov. How is the patient?"
"Harrison says he's pulling round amazingly. A tough skull. He'll be up for his meals in no time."
"How do you do it?" she asked with a gesture.
"Do what?"
"Manage a place like this? In a busy office district. It's the most wonderful apartment in New York. Riverside has nothing like it. It must cost like sixty."
