For a few seconds Carol wavered, tremulous. Then she said pluckily, "All right. Just wait till I powder my nose, will you? It gets so shiny when I cry."
"Carol!"
"What?"
"Isn't the house still?"
"Yes—ghastly."
"I never thought Prudence was much of a chatter-box, but—listen! There isn't a sound."
Carol held out a hand, and Lark clutched it desperately.
"Let's—let's go find the folks. This is—awful! Little old Prudence is gone!"