Mrs. Pickering. Not in her room! Not in the garden!
Mrs. Warren. You mean, Clara, she is nowhere to be found? Clara, was her room disturbed ... I mean, did it look as if ... as if ... as if she might have left hurriedly?
Clara. Why, I didn't go in, ma'am. The door was locked.
Mrs. Warren. Locked?
Ladies. (Looking at each other knowingly) Locked!
Clara. Here is a note, ma'am. It was just left by Doctor Hunter's boy, ma'am.
Mrs. Pickering. A letter!
Mrs. Romney. From Doctor Hunter!
Mrs. Lawty. Perhaps they have eloped!
(The ladies jump to their feet.)