When they reached their hotel there were letters. One was from Flora: "You asked about George. He is not with us. He has gone to Nantucket to visit some friends of his—the Merediths. He will be back next week."
"The Merediths?" Madge said. "George doesn't know any—Merediths. Mark—he is following Becky."
"Well, she's safe in Boston."
"She is going back. On Wednesday. And he'll be there." Her eyes were troubled.
"Mark," she said, abruptly, "I wonder if Randy has left New York. Call him up, please, long distance. I want to talk to him."
"My darling girl, do you know what time it is?"
"Nearly midnight. But that's nothing in New York. And, anyhow, if he is asleep, we will wake him up. I am going to tell him that George is at Siasconset."
"But, my dear, what good will it do?"
"He's got to save Becky. I know Dalton's tricks and his manners. He can cast a glamour over anything. And Randy's the man for her. Oh, Mark, just think of her money and his genius——"
"What have money and genius to do with it?"