"How did he take it?"
"How do people generally take such things?"
The impatience of the key in which this is uttered, coupled with the implied side-allusion to an acquaintance with sorrows of a somewhat similar nature on her own part, silences the younger and sounder Miss Wilson for a moment, but only for a moment—a moment long enough to be filled by another sighing "Poor dear boy!" from Sybilla.
"You say that she left a note for him?"—with a renewed light of curiosity in her eyes—"have you any idea what was in it?"
Jim hesitates; then, "Yes," he replies; "but as it was not addressed to me, I do not think that I have any right to repeat it."
"Of course not!"—reluctantly; "but did it throw no light—absolutely no light at all—upon this extraordinary stampede?"
"No."
"Did not she even tell him where they were going?"
"No."
"Nor whether they were coming back?"