"Does she seem well?"
"I think so; yes," Casti replied, in a stifled voice. Then he asked hurriedly, "Where can Waymark be? What does it all mean?"
Mr. Woodstock shook his head, looking annoyed.
"I am convinced," Julian said, "that something is wrong. Surely it's time to make inquiries."
"Yes, yes; I will do so. But you look downright ill. Do you feel able to get home? If I'd thought it would upset you like this—"
Mr. Woodstock was puzzled, and kept scrutinising the other's face.
"I shall go home and have a little rest," Julian said. "I didn't get much sleep last night, that's all. But I must hear about Waymark."
"You shall. I'll warrant he turns up in the course of the day. Don't be anxious: I'll get to work as soon as possible to find him; but, depend upon it, the fellow's all right."
They shook hands, and Julian took his way homewards. Mr. Woodstock went to the house which Ida had just entered. He knocked lightly, and a woman opened to him and led him into a sitting-room on the ground-floor.
"I'll just have a cup of coffee, Mrs. Sims," he said. "Does she seem to care for her breakfast?"