"You wouldn't, if you were their father. They involve me in far too many discussions. You see, you're not used to children. I am."
John's eyes flashed as much as the melancholy illumination permitted; this was the cue for which he had been waiting.
"Just so, my dear George. You are used to children: I am not. And that is why I have come to tell you that the police have been instructed to return them, when found, to you and not to me."
George blinked in a puzzled way.
"Yes, to you. To their father. Hasn't their luggage arrived? I had it sent back here this morning."
"Ah, yes," George said. "Of course! I was rather late getting up this morning. I've been overworking a bit lately, and Karl did mutter something about luggage. Didn't it come in a taxi?"
John nodded.
"Yes, I remember now, in a prepaid taxi; but as I couldn't remember that I was expecting any luggage, I told Karl to send it back where it came from."
"Do you mean to say that you sent their luggage back after I'd taken the trouble to...."