"A small box. She went away in a cab."
"Where did she tell the cabman to drive to?"
"To Oxford Street."
Bawdsey was disappointed. He saw that Lola had taken every precaution to hide her trail, and that there was not much chance of finding her. However, he went to see Kowlaski. The manager began to talk of the dying mother, and Bawdsey shut him up.
"Rubbish! That's for the public. I want to know where she is.
"My dear, I do not know," said Kowlaski, and for the first time in his wicked old life he told the truth.
Not to be beaten, Bawdsey sought out George Brendon. But George was as ignorant as the manager and the landlady. "I haven't the slightest idea," he said, when Bawdsey asked; "and, to tell you the truth, I don't see why you should try to find out."
"I want to know."
"That is apparent on the face of it. But you are not engaged to marry her, are you, Mr. Bawdsey?"
"No such luck," replied the detective, with a dismal face.