“But, Fay, you promised!”
“I know. I could see he was restless and I kept telling him you’d be back soon. It wasn’t so easy keeping him. He walked up and down and talked. ‘I must go out to my people,’ he said. ‘I feel they need me. I must be about my proper business.’ I didn’t know what to do. I just hid his hat. I never dreamt he’d go out without his hat—prim as he is. I just went upstairs for a moment to get something—I forget what now—but, anyhow, it wasn’t there, and I may have spent five minutes looking for it—and meanwhile he slipped out. He left the door open and I never heard him go. As soon as I knew he’d gone I ran up the Mews right up into Lonsdale Road and stood about there.... He’d vanished. I’ve been hoping he’d come back every moment since. Before you returned. But! He hasn’t come back.”
Her conviction was all too manifest that he would never come back.
“I’d have done anything—” she said.
Christina Alberta and Paul Lambone looked at one another. “This rather puts the lid on,” said Christina Alberta. “What are we going to do now?”
§ 5
Lambone followed Christina Alberta into the studio and sat down at once on the simple couch that became Mr. Preemby’s bed at night. The couch squeaked and submitted. He stared at the floor and reflected. “I’ve got no engagements this evening,” he said. “None.”
“It won’t be much good waiting here for him,” said Christina Alberta.
“I feel in my bones he won’t head back here for hours and hours,” he said.
“And meanwhile he may be up to anything!” said Christina Alberta.