"Is Private Richard 'Iggins in town to-night?" he asked of Lady Arabel in a casual voice.
"I suppose so," she replied. "But he has such a dretful habit of disappearing...."
The policeman turned to the Mayor.
"Now, sir," he said. "Could you help me at all in——"
"Look here," said the witch, rising. "If you would only come along to my house in Mitten Island I can truly give you all the information you need. In fact, won't you come to supper with me? If some one will kindly lend me half-a-crown I will go on ahead and cook something."
Mr. Tovey mechanically produced a coin.
"Here, Harold," called the witch, and holding Harold's collar she stepped out on to the balcony, mounted, and flew away.
She left a room full of noise behind her.
The policeman, who was intoxicated with the strange fumes, said: "Hell. Hell. Hell."
Lady Arabel called in vain: "Angela, Angela, don't be so dretfully rash."