“I’ve looked there.”
“Well, then, did you take it in from the wagon last night?”
“Yes, I remember doing it.”
“What about the little attic? You might have put it up there to dry out.”
“No. I took my wading boots up, but that was all.”
“The dining-room? You came in that way.”
He goes and returns. “Not there.” I reflect deeply.
“Jonathan, are you sure it’s not in that corner of the orchard room?”
“Yes, I’m sure; but I’ll look again.” He disappears, but in a moment I hear his voice calling, “No! Yours is here, but not mine.”
I perceive that it is a case for me, and I get up. “You go and harness. I’ll find it,” I call.