“A mystery! Tell me all about it!” she cried, anxiously, for Maud was her best friend, while the Doctor had also been extremely kind to her.
“I don’t know anything,” he responded. “Except that the whole place by half-past ten last night had been cleared out of furniture. Only the grand piano and a few big pieces have been left. Harmer’s have taken the whole of it to their depository at Chiswick.”
“Well, that’s most extraordinary, certainly,” she said, opening her eyes in blank surprise. “Maud must have known what was taking place. Possibly that is why she was so melancholy and pensive.”
“Did she say nothing which would throw any light upon their sadden disappearance?”
Marion reflected for a few moments, her brows slightly knit in thought.
“Well, she said something about her father being much worried, but she did not tell me why. About a fortnight ago she told me that both she and her father had many enemies, one of whom would not hesitate to kill him if a chance occurred. I tried to get from her the reason, but she would not tell me.”
“But you don’t think that the Doctor has been the victim of an assassin, do you?” Max asked in apprehension.
“No; but Maud may have been,” she answered. “Killed?”
“I hope not, yet—”
“Why do you hesitate, Marion, to tell me all you know?” he urged. “There is a mystery here which we must fathom.”