“I haven’t the least idea,” said Craven, looking uncomfortable. “Perhaps—She complained of the heat just now. She may have gone to the door to get some air. Please forgive me!”
He glanced from Miss Van Tuyn to Arabian, who was still standing up stiffly, with a rigidly polite expression on his face.
“I must just see!”
He turned away and walked down the restaurant.
When he got to the counter where the padrona sat enthroned he found their waitress standing near it.
“Where is the signora?” he asked.
“The signora took her fur and went out, signorino,” said the woman.
“The bill, please!”
“Ecco, signorino!”
The woman presented the bill. Craven paid it, tipped her, got his coat and hat, and went hurriedly out.