The captain smiled patiently.
"Did you keep that envelope?"
"Yes. Faith didn't seem to notice."
"That is right. And I'll think it over. We can mail a letter at Ismailia, but no answer could reach you until we get to Bombay. I suppose we might wire, but we only stop, there—dear me! I keep forgetting we have no address except Debby's, and she would go all to pieces over a telegram. Do you know whether Clara's still single?"
"No, I don't."
"Sort of a wild-goose chase, at the best! It will have to be a letter, I guess."
"How a small difficulty looms into a fate in a case like this! I must cling to this clue, though, till convinced it is a false one; I cannot give it up so lightly."
"Of course not. And I'll think up something—trust me. Why don't you write yourself, Anna? Make it a note that would mean something to Clara, and nothing to others, and I'll send it to Debby, putting in a line myself. That will be best, and then we need not say anything to the girls, as you are so anxious to keep it all from them."
She bent her head in meditation.
"I was, at first, because I did not know them; now I do not so much care. They are lovely girls, my friend, and so sensible! There comes Hope now—I recognize her laugh. Well, help me in this, and you will but forge another link in the long chain of favors I owe you. Good-night!"