“Yes, yes! Have you seen her?”
“How should I know her if I saw her?”
The woman seemed dazed. She put her hand to her head, as if trying to think. Frank could see she was nearly distracted with grief. Her eyes were red from weeping and her care-lined face still wet with tears.
“I don’t know! Oh, I don’t know how to find her! The only way is to ask somebody—anybody. I thought I would ask the men whom I met on the street to-night, hoping some of them might be able to tell me something about her.”
“I am very sorry, madam, but I’m afraid I can tell you nothing.”
A despairing moan issued from the woman’s lips.
“I followed her as soon as possible,” she said. “She ran away from home and came here to this city. She has been here before, and the city has ruined her. Her head is filled with false notions! Oh, I fear I shall not find my little girl again!”
“Cheer up, madam. Have you applied to the police?”
“No, no; not yet! I didn’t want to do that. Daisy is so proud—so spirited! She would be awfully angry if I were to put the police after her.”
“Daisy!” exclaimed Frank.