“Isn’t she here?”
Mrs. Willet shook her head.
“I had a telegram from her from New York to say that she was coming, but I’ve seen nothing of her as yet.”
“You’ve changed your address, you know,” Quest reminded her, after a moment’s reflection.
“I wrote and told her,” Mrs. Willet began. “After all, though,” she went on thoughtfully, “I am not sure whether she could have had the letter. But if she went up to Hampstead, any one would tell her where I had moved to. There’s no secret about me.”
“Lenora did go up to 157 Elsmere Road yesterday,” Quest told her. “They gave her your address here, as they have just given it to me.”
“Then what’s become of the child?” Mrs. Willet demanded.
Quest, whose brain was working quickly, scribbled upon one of his cards the address of the hotel where he had taken rooms, and passed it over.
“Why Lenora didn’t come on to you here I can’t imagine,” he said. “However, I’ll go back to the hotel where she was to spend the night after she arrived. She may have gone back there. That’s my address, Mrs. Willet. If you hear anything, I wish you’d let me know. Lenora’s quite a particular friend of mine and I am a little anxious.”
Mrs. Willet smiled knowingly.