It was a cheery room, where he had gathered together the impedimenta which had marked his progress through bachelordom, mementoes of his college days, and such other possessions as were peculiarly his.
"Now," he said, when we were settled, "let's have the story. Of course I've read the papers, but I hope you won't take that into account."
So I told it step by step, while he listened silently, save for an occasional exclamation of astonishment.
"It's the most remarkable thing I ever heard," he said, when I had finished. "I don't wonder that you believed at first that it had some connection with the Lawrence affair."
"It was certainly a remarkable coincidence that they should happen together as they did."
"And the first affair is as deep a mystery as ever?"
"Godfrey says it's deeper than ever. I showed him Miss Lawrence's photograph as we came in on the train together, and after he'd looked at it, he said it was the strangest puzzle he'd ever encountered. It's absolutely unexplainable."
Mr. Royce smoked for a moment in silence.
"Of course there must be some explanation," he said, "and an adequate one. Marcia Lawrence wouldn't have run away without good and sufficient reason."
"No," I agreed, "but there's one thing certain—whatever the reason, it isn't of a nature to render the marriage impossible. She was probably overwrought when she wrote that note to Curtiss—something had upset her so suddenly and completely that she couldn't see clearly."