When the Hop was over, they said good-night at the foot of the stairs, in the Exchange.
“We shall see you in the morning, of course—we leave about ten o’clock,” said Miss Cavendish.
“We shall be gone long before you are awake,” answered Croyden. And, when she looked at him inquiringly, he added: “It’s an appointment that may not be broken.”
“Well, till Northumberland, then!” Miss Brundage remarked.
But Elaine Cavendish’s only reply was a meaning nod and another fascinating smile. She wished him success.
As they entered their own rooms, a little later, Macloud, in the lead, switched on the lights—and stopped!
“Hello!—our wallets, by all that’s good!” he exclaimed. 134
“Hurrah!” cried Croyden, springing in, and stumbling over Macloud in his eagerness.
He seized his wallet!—A touch, and the story was told. No need to investigate—it was as empty as the day it came from the shop, save for a few visiting cards, and some trifling memoranda. The letter and the money were gone.
“Damn!” said Croyden.