“Most certainly,” she said. “He tells me that his affairs are likely to keep him abroad for a considerable time. But—” and she paused. At last she added: “I have never heard him speak of you as a friend, Mr—Mr Holford.”
“Perhaps not,” I said quickly. “The fact is, I’m a confidential friend of his, as well as of Mr Kershaw Kirk.”
“A friend of Mr Kirk!” she cried, staring at me with a startled expression, half of fear and half of surprise.
“Yes,” I said. “I believe Mr Kirk is an intimate friend both of your father and yourself. Is not that so?”
“Certainly. He’s our very best friend. Both Dad and I trust him implicitly,” replied the girl. “Indeed, during my father’s absence he is left in charge of my affairs.”
For a moment I remained silent.
“He is your friend—eh?”
“Certainly. Why do you ask?”
“Well, because I feared that he was not your friend,” I answered. “Do you happen to know his whereabouts?”
“He’s abroad somewhere, but where I don’t know.”