Zoie's small face peeped cautiously around the edge of the doorway.
“Well, perhaps I did,” she admitted; then she slipped gingerly into the room, “my nerves are jumping like fizzy water.”
They were soon to “jump” more, for at this instant, Alfred, burning with anger at the indignity of having been locked in the bathroom, entered the room, demanding to know the whereabouts of the lunatic mother, who had dared to make him a captive in his own house.
“Where is she?” he called to Zoie and Aggie, and his eye roved wildly about the room. Then his mind reverted with anxiety to his newly acquired offspring. “My boys!” he cried, and he rushed toward the crib. “They're gone!” he declared tragically.
“Gone?” echoed Aggie.
“Not ALL of them,” said Zoie.
“All,” insisted Alfred, and his hands went distractedly toward his head. “She's taken them all.”
Zoie and Aggie looked at each other in a dazed way. They had a hazy recollection of having seen one babe disappear with the Italian woman, but what had become of the other two?
“Where did they go?” asked Aggie.
“I don't know,” said Zoie, with the first truth she had spoken that night, “I left them with Jimmy.”