“Yes, that’s quite true. Well, Mrs. Adams, will you go down, then and say I’ll be down in a moment or two. Give me time to freshen my appearance a bit.”
“Yes, with paints and powders and cosmetics!” Esther Adams grumbled to herself, as she went down the stairs.
As a matter of fact she quite misjudged the girl. Very rarely did Anita resort to artificial aid of that sort, but when she so desired, she used it as she would any other personal adornment.
“She’s coming down,” Mrs. Adams announced, as she returned to Trask and they waited.
But when the minutes grew to a quarter of an hour, and then nearly to a half, Mrs. Adams again climbed the stairs to hasten proceedings.
This time she found the room empty.
The absence, too, of brushes and combs, the disappearance of a small suitcase, and the fact that her hat and coat were gone all pointed unmistakably to the assumption that the girl had fled.
“Well!” Mrs. Adams reported, “she’s lit out, bag and baggage.”
“Gone!” exclaimed Trask in dismay.
“Well, she isn’t in her room. Her trunk is locked and strapped and her suitcase is missing. Her hat and coat’s gone, too, so you can make your own guess.”