"So you concluded that your imagination had been playing you tricks," said Saunderson grimly. "In my opinion you were right."
Dr. Cairn dropped into an armchair.
"All right, Crombie; that will do."
Crombie, with a mumbled "Good-night, gentlemen," turned and left the room.
"Why are you worrying about this matter," inquired Saunderson, when the door had closed, "at a time like the present?"
"Never mind," replied Dr. Cairn wearily. "I must return to Half-Moon Street, now, but I shall be back within an hour."
With no other word to Saunderson, he stood up and walked out to the hall. He rapped at the study door, and it was instantly opened by Robert Cairn. No spoken word was necessary; the burning question could be read in his too-bright eyes. Dr. Cairn laid his hand upon his son's shoulder.
"I won't excite false hopes, Rob," he said huskily. "I am going back to the house, and I want you to come with me."
Robert Cairn turned his head aside, groaning aloud, but his father grasped him by the arm, and together they left that house of shadows, entered the car which waited at the gate, and without exchanging a word en route, came to Half-Moon Street.