“This is a pleasant surprise,” said Kara, sitting up; “I hope you don't mind my dishabille.”
T. X. came straight to the point.
“Where is Miss Holland!” he asked.
“Miss Holland?” Kara's eyebrows advertised his astonishment. “What an extraordinary question to ask me, my dear man! At her home, or at the theatre or in a cinema palace—I don't know how these people employ their evenings.”
“She is not at home,” said T. X., “and I have reason to believe that she has not left this house.”
“What a suspicious person you are, Mr. Meredith!” Kara rang the bell and Fisher came in with a cup of coffee on a tray.
“Fisher,” drawled Kara. “Mr. Meredith is anxious to know where Miss Holland is. Will you be good enough to tell him, you know more about her movements than I do.”
“As far as I know, sir,” said Fisher deferentially, “she left the house about 5.30, her usual hour. She sent me out a little before five on a message and when I came back her hat and her coat had gone, so I presume she had gone also.”
“Did you see her go?” asked T. X.
The man shook his head.