"And what do you think of it?" cried Mrs. White, stemming a fresh flood of tears.
Poubalov's brows contracted slightly as a sign that he disapproved forcing this question forward at the time, and with a grave glance at Clara he replied:
"I do not think. I watch, ask questions, and listen."
Clara hardly knew whether to be encouraged or depressed by this answer. Unless this man were an intimate friend of Ivan, it was perhaps not to be expected that he should see the folly of supposing for an instant that the missing man had eloped with Lizzie White.
"Mr. Poubalov," she said, "the reports in the newspapers do not throw the least light on this matter. I have no criticism to make on their statements of fact, but their conjectures of every kind are idle. They do not even disturb me."
Poubalov bowed as if to signify that he heard and understood.
"The cause of his disappearance," she continued after a moment, "it is yet to be found. The newspapers have not even hinted at it."
"You have an idea, then," he said, "as to the correct explanation?"
"No, not one," she answered; "I can only think of accident; but had there been any accident so serious as to render him unconscious and helpless, the police would have discovered it and reported it by this time, would they not?"
"They would if your police are nearly as efficient as those of European cities," said Poubalov, "and I have no doubt they are so to the extent of such emergencies as this case presents."