"Jones," she called excitedly, "I smell something burning!"
Jones dashed into the room, sniffed, and dashed out again, heading for the cellar door. His first thought was naturally that the devils incarnate had set fire to the house. When he returned, having, of course, discovered no fire, he found Florence gone. He rushed into the hall. Her hat was missing. He made for the hall door with a speed which seemed incredible to the bewildered Susan's eyes. Out into the street, up and down which he looked. Far away he discovered a dwindling taxicab. The child was gone.
In the house Susan was answering the telephone, talking incoherently.
"Who is it?" Jones whispered, his lips white and dry.
"WHO IS IT?" WHISPERED JONES, HIS LIPS WHITE AND DRY
"The countess...." began Susan.
He took the receiver from her roughly.
"Hello, who is it?"