He offered no suggestion, and I walked to the door of Joyce's room and put my fingers to the handle. Then I came back and made him open his eyes and listen to me.
"I'll take the blame," I said; "but will you see if you can make her understand? She's known you longer."
It was not the true reason. When I reached the door I was smitten with the fear that she would not recognise me, and my nerve failed.
We explained our intentions to a reluctant nurse; I fidgeted outside in the hall and heard the Seraph walk up to the bedside and ask Joyce how she was.
"I'm better, thanks," she answered. "Let me see, do I know you?" There was a weak laugh. "I should like to be friends with you, you've got such nice eyes."
The Seraph took her hand and asked if she knew any one named Mavis Rawnsley.
"Oh, yes, I know her. Her father's the Prime Minister. Mavis, yes, I know her."
"Do you know where she is?"
"Mavis Rawnsley? She was at the theatre last night. What theatre was it? She was in the stalls, and I was in a box. Who else was there? Were you? She was with her mother. Where is she now? Yes, I know Miss Rawnsley well."
"Do you know where she is now?"