“How the devil——?” Campton burst out.
“Oh, he got a Red Cross mission; it was arranged very suddenly—through a friend....”
“Yes—well?” Campton stammered, sitting down lest his legs should fail him, and signing to her to take a chair.
“Well—he was not there!” she repeated excitedly. “It’s what we might have known—since he’s changed his address.”
“Then he didn’t see him?” Campton interrupted, the ferocious joy of the discovery crowding out his wrath and wonder.
“Anderson didn’t? No. He wasn’t there, I tell you!”
“The H.Q. has been moved?”
“No, it hasn’t. Anderson saw one of the officers. He said George had been sent on a mission.”
“To another H.Q.?”
“That’s what they said. I don’t believe it.”