"Eh, yes." Mr. Phelps wiped his bald head vigorously. "I went to break the news to her after you had gone to see Sophy, and I found she had left for London."
"London? Why London?"
"That is just what I wanted to know, my dear Alan. It seems she received last night a letter which threw her into a state of great excitement. She was bad enough that way, as it was, the servant said; but this letter, it appears, drove her into a perfect frenzy."
"Do you know what was in the letter?"
"I asked that--oh, trust me, Alan, to be precise about details--but the servant said she did not know. Mrs. Warrender put it in her pocket. That spoke volumes from the servant's point of view. All night long, it appears, she was walking about the room using the most fearful language--God forgive her!--and this morning at eight o'clock she started off to catch the 9.30 express at the Junction."
"And is she coming back?"
"That I don't know, my boy."
Mr. Phelps looked round cautiously and lowered his voice to a whisper.
"She took her jewels with her."
"Her jewels?"