"She's gone! She's gone!" cried Robert, breaking into his familiar refrain. "I've just had the house on the wire, and there's no news of her at all as yet. I've had police headquarters on the wire, and they haven't heard or seen a thing. Miriam—that's one of her chums—has just finished going over Bellevue, and there's no sign of Mary down there!"
By now they were in the living-room, and Beatrice, somewhat startled at the sign of a being in agony equal to her own stood aside.
"She's gone!" said Robert Vining. "And I've been around to Helène's—that's another of her chums, Anthony—and she's going to telephone all the girls. That takes that off my hands and leaves me free to go over all the hospitals that haven't been covered yet. That's what brings me here, old man. You'll have to come with me."
"Very well!" Anthony said swiftly. "We'll start now."
"Because I haven't got the nerve to do it alone!" Robert cried. "I—somebody has to go to the Morgue, too! And suppose we should go down there—I was there just once and I had the horrors for a month—suppose we should go down there and find her, Anthony, all——"
"Hush!" said Anthony. "Don't go into the possibilities; there's a lady present, Bob."
Vining almost came to earth for a moment.
"What?"
"To be sure. Mrs. Boller—Mr. Robert Vining."
He spoke directly at her, so that Robert, out of his emotional fog, gained an idea of her location, and turned dizzily toward her. There was upon his countenance a strained, heart-broken, half-apologetic smile as he faced Beatrice Boller. He bowed, too, perfunctorily.