"Yes, I tried to make her come back with me to-day. And I am bound to say that I succeeded better than I expected to do, for though she refuses to come now, she does intend to do so when you yourselves leave Paris, Mr. Senator. Fortunately she does not know what sort of a time she will come back to: I fear that most of her friends will feel exactly as I feel; they will not believe that John Dampier has disappeared save of his own free will—and some of them will suppose it their duty to tell her so!"
"It is the view evidently held by the French police," observed the Senator.
The English lawyer shrugged his shoulders. "Of course it is! The fact that Dampier had hardly any money on him disposes of any crime theory. A wonderful thing the Paris police system, Mr. Burton!"
And the other cordially agreed; nothing could have been more courteous, more kind, more intelligent, than the behaviour of the high police officials, from the Prefect himself downwards, over the whole business.
Mr. Stephens glanced up at the huge station clock. "I have only five minutes left," he said. "But I want to say again how much I appreciate your extraordinary kindness and goodness to my poor client. And, Mr. Senator? There's just one thing more I want to say to you—" For the first time the English lawyer looked awkward and ill at ease.
"Why yes, Mr. Stephens! Pray say anything you like."
"Well, my dear sir, I should like to give you a very sincere piece of advice." He hesitated. "If I were you I should go back to America as soon as possible. I feel this sad affair has thoroughly spoilt your visit to Paris; and speaking as a man who has children himself, I am sure it has not been well, either for Miss Daisy or for your son, to have become absorbed, as they could hardly help becoming, in this distressing business."
The American felt slightly puzzled by the seriousness with which the other delivered this well-meant but wholly superfluous advice. What just exactly did the lawyer mean by these solemnly delivered words?
"Why," said the Senator, "you're quite right, Mr. Stephens; it has been an ordeal, especially for my girl Daisy: she hasn't had air and exercise enough during this last fortnight, let alone change of thought and scene. But, as a matter of fact, I am settling about our passages to-day, on my way back to the hotel."
"I am very glad to hear that!" exclaimed the other, with far more satisfaction and relief in his voice than seemed warranted. "And I presume that your son will find lots of work awaiting him on his return home? There's nothing like work to chase cobwebs from the brain or—or heart, Mr. Senator."