“Absolutely nothing. As far as I can see at present, it must have vanished into space. Grey did his best before he left, but could find no one who’d seen it.”
“And Dr. Gregg?” she insisted and her tone was so urgent that he thought it better to humour her. “There’s nothing new about him?”
“My dear Sybil, I was away all yesterday and Grey has gone back to London,” he hedged. “Even if he’s managed to stumble on something there, he hasn’t had time to communicate with me. If anything turns up from him, I’ll let you know, but don’t worry your head about it now. Rest and get well.”
She turned to him with a display of emotion quite foreign to her.
“I can’t help thinking about it,” she said piteously. “That boy shut up in prison haunts me! Just imagine, Hatter, what it must be. Alone, with nobody to reassure him, not knowing how it is all going to turn out! And Cynthia! Just at the beginning of her young life! It’s cruel!”
He tried to soothe her.
“I know, Sybil, but it’s no good for either of us to let it get on our nerves. Thank goodness, they are young and able to face things. Some day this will be like an evil dream to them and they’ll be able to start afresh, with their whole lives before them. Don’t waste your strength in futile pity, my dear!”
She managed to smile at him, though her face was still white and drawn.
“You’re right, of course, and I know I’m being silly. It’s only that when one’s ill and helpless one loses one’s sense of proportion. If I know how things are going, it won’t be so bad. You will tell me, won’t you? Don’t keep things from me because of my rotten health, will you, Hatter?”
Her voice was very appealing and Fayre mentally cursed his luck. He had barely succeeded in heading off Cynthia and now here was Sybil Kean pressing him even more closely.