"Papa Claude's as much taken in as she is. You remember the night over home when he talked about his lovely detached soul? He never sees the truth about anybody."
"Well, he's going to see the truth about this. If you don't write to him to-night and tell him the kind of man Mr. Phipps is, I will!"
"Wait till to-morrow. I'll have another round with Nell. I've got some proof that I think she'll have to believe."
Quin rose restlessly. He wanted to go to the Bartletts' at once, if only to stand guard at the gate against the danger that threatened Eleanor.
"Aren't you coming home to supper?" asked Rose.
"No," he said absently; "I don't want any supper."
For an hour he paced the streets, trying to think things out. His burning desire was to go straight to Eleanor and lay the whole matter before her. But according to his ethics it was a poor sport who would discredit a rival, especially on hearsay. He must leave it to Rose, and let her furnish the proof she said she possessed.
At eight o'clock he rang the Bartletts' bell, and was surprised when Miss Isobel opened the door.
"She isn't here," she said in answer to his inquiry. "We cannot imagine what has become of her. She must have gone out just before dinner, and she has not returned."
"Didn't she say where she was going?"