"Now!" said Leeson with a triumphant expression. "Thank goodness they're out of the way and we're quiet and snug. Now you shall hear my poet." He felt for the book. "I tell you——" He stopped in dismay.
"I could have sworn it was in my pocket," he said, and began to hunt about the room.
"Where on earth can it be?" he said.
I helped him to look for it, but in vain.
"Perhaps Mrs. Bunton took it?" I suggested.
"I'm sure she didn't," he replied.
"Perhaps Mrs. Leeson has it?" I said.
But she had not. The last time she had seen it it was on the table after Mrs. Bunton copied the title.
Leeson was so utterly dejected that I felt almost sorry for him.
"Well," he said at last, "that's the strangest thing I ever heard of. What a disappointment! I did want you to hear it."