“Of a sort. You recall saying on Wednesday that you thanked heaven the Bellamy baby was old enough to talk?”
“Yes!” Orbit responded eagerly. “I have tried several times to see Mrs. Bellamy and little Maude, but the mother is still almost overcome by the narrow escape of her child and will not permit her out of her sight for a moment, while she herself is too prostrated to see any one.”
“The little one talked to me the other day,” McCarty vouchsafed.
“She did? Why didn’t you tell me?” Orbit pushed back his chair and rose. “Did she see any one, hear anything? Tell me, for God’s sake! This may be most important!”
His fine eyes had lighted and the latent excitement seemed to have communicated itself to his guest for Sir Philip also rose.
“No, sir. She knew no more than you or I, but she kept asking for her balloon. It seems Lucette had bought it for her off a wop by the gate just before you invited them in; ’twas a blue one, the baby said, and she was persistent about it, but I recall seeing no toy balloon in that conservatory.—Did you?”
“No.” Orbit shook his head. “I really don’t know, though; I didn’t notice particularly. Surely it couldn’t have had anything to do with the case, though!—What is it, Fu Moy?”
The little coffee boy spoke rapidly in Chinese and after a moment Orbit turned with a gesture which included Sir Philip and McCarty.
“I am wanted on the telephone. You will excuse me?”
When he had left the room the Englishman glanced again at the chessboard with the self-centered absorption of the enthusiast.