“But what happened?”
“How did he get you?”
“Did he harm you?”
“Where is he now, and Melissa?”
The girls’ questions came trippingly.
“I think it is best if I go back to my houseboat and there tell you the story,” said the artist. “Perhaps there is even left some tea—and I should dearly love a cup of tea. This Clayton jailer gave me nothing but coffee. I am so sick of it!”
“There is tea left,” said Arden.
“That is good. I suppose,” and his voice faltered, “that my precious box is not left. They must have taken that.”
“I’m afraid they did,” said Arden.
“Well, it is fate! I am glad at least to be alive,” and Dimitri shrugged his shoulders with resignation.