"Why could you not take it from him?" her aunt asked, impatiently.
"Because he has hidden it away," sobbed the little girl. "He won't say where it is."
So, after pacifying the child, Ruth went off in search of George. She came upon that young gentleman on the terrace playing with a cart. Naturally, she looked for the horse which should have been drawing the vehicle, but no horse was to be seen. "Where is your gee-gee?" coaxed Aunt Ruth.
"Gone to grass," lisped George, who was precocious beyond telling.
"You bring him back from grass, Georgie, and give him to Aunt Ruth."
But this he positively refused to do. The animal was hidden away, and all she could say or do failed to compel its production. "Dobbin is ill; he is in the paddock," was all that he would say. And from this position she failed to move him.
Ultimately she had to go without it. She made George promise to bring it from the paddock next day, and relying on this slender chance of recovering a toy which should never have fallen into his hands, Ruth went her way, hoping to learn something from Mrs. Garvey about the broken link.
Mrs. Garvey was a thin, pale woman, who practised the calling of a clairvoyant, in opposition to her husband's wishes.
"My dear!" cried the lady, receiving Ruth with great effusion. "I am glad to see you. But this is not unexpected; for it was borne in upon me, by some telepathic communication, that you were in trouble, and would come to me for assistance. Well. I am quite ready to give it to you."
"Do you know----" Ruth began, somewhat I puzzled by this exordium.