“None. I have just returned from the Police-Office. Not a word of the child, although reports have come in from all parts of the city.”
“Where did Mrs. Jeckyl live at the time she came here?” asked Florence. None could answer the question.
“Is there no one of whom she could be inquired about?”
“Mrs. Ashton, I think, knows something in regard to her,” said Mr. Fleetwood.
“Has any one been to see her?” inquired Florence.
“No one. We should have thought of that before,” said Mr. Dainty. “Who knows her residence?”
Mrs. Dainty gave the required information, and a servant was despatched immediately with a note to Mrs. Ashton. That lady could not say where Mrs. Jeckyl lived, but thought she was at a certain boarding-house in Twelfth Street. Thither Mr. Dainty went without delay.
“Does a Mrs. Jeckyl board here?” he inquired of the waiter who came to the door.
“No, sir,” was answered, in a tone plainly enough conveying the information that the woman about whom he made inquiry was known to the servant.
“When did she leave?” he asked.