21. THE PROMENADE DES ANGLAIS
Her eyes wide with amazement, Pamela Potter looked at Mrs. Luce. “What in the world,” she cried, “did Mr. Chan mean by that?”
Mrs. Luce smiled. “He meant that he knows who killed your grandfather, my dear. I rather thought he’d find it out.”
“But how did he find it out? He said I ought to know, too. And I can’t imagine—”
The old lady shrugged. “Even for your generation,” she said, “you’re a clever girl. I’ve noticed that. Bright as a dollar, as we used to say. But you’re not so clever as Charlie Chan. Not many people are. I’ve noticed that, too.” She stood up. “Here comes young Kennaway—I think I’ll go into the lounge.”
“Oh, please don’t run away.”
“I may be a chaperon, Pamela, but I was young once myself.” And she moved toward a distant door.
Kennaway
