Casson tried desperately to remember.
“I—I don’t know,” he said at last piteously.
Bomba’s heart sank, but he tried again.
“I asked him about Laura, too,” he went on, watching Casson narrowly.
“Laura, dear sweet Laura,” murmured the old man with emotion, tears coming to his eyes.
“Who is she? Where is she? Oh, tell me, Casson!” Bomba begged, with all his heart in his voice.
“She is—she is—oh, why is it that I cannot remember?” exclaimed Casson in desperation.
“Jojasta knew. Jojasta could have told you,” the old man went on after a pause. “But you say that he is dead.”
“He is dead,” replied Bomba. “But before he died he told me that Sobrinini——”
Then came a startling interruption.