“Who has told you this?” said the Master, getting up.
“Mariana.”
“Confound Mariana! Go and search house and gardens, and take the search-light, and bring her back in half an hour.”
Everard withdrew.
“Disappeared!” said Mr. Barringcourt, left to himself, and his brows came together blackly. “That is impossible, without the help of Mariana,” and then he turned to the letter he was writing and finished it, though it was a long one, before Everard returned.
On his entrance the Master looked up.
“She is nowhere.”
“You have searched in every place, likely and unlikely?”
“In every place.”
Then a very cruel light leapt into his eyes, in that deep shadow that encircled them, and his lips closed one over the other grimly, as he looked across at the doorkeeper.