Miss Blow’s eyes warned him again. There was a hard glitter in them very little suggestive of tears. He stopped abruptly.
“I understand that you are a magistrate,” she said.
Lord Manton bowed. Then he sat up straight in his chair and tried to express in his attitude a proper judicial solemnity.
“I want,” said Miss Blow, “to have Dr. O’Grady found at once.”
“A very natural and a very proper wish,” said Lord Manton. “I am in entire sympathy with you. I should like very much to find Dr. O’Grady. But——”
“Dead or alive,” said Miss Blow firmly.
“My dear Miss Blow!” The “my dear” came quite naturally to his lips this time. The words expressed sheer astonishment. There was no suggestion of affection, paternal or other, in the way he uttered them.
“Dead or alive,” said Miss Blow again.
“Don’t make such horrible suggestions, Miss Blow. I assure you there’s not the slightest reason for supposing that Dr. O’Grady is anything but alive and well.”
“Then where is he?” Miss Blow spoke sharply, incisively. Lord Manton began to think that she must be some new kind of girl, quite outside of his experience, one who felt more indignation than sorrow at the loss of her lover.