It is of record that the three gentlemen were closeted with the officers
and managers for an hour or more, but it is not clear that they
transacted anything that could seriously affect the situation.

Mrs. Medcroft, despite Mrs. Odell-Carney's friendly offices, refused
point blank to discuss the situation. She did not dare to do or say
anything as yet. Her husband had not telegraphed the word releasing her
from the sorry compact. She loyally decided to stand by the agreement,
no matter what the cost, until she received word from London that he had
triumphed or failed in his brave fight against the "bloodsuckers."

"I will explain to-morrow, dear Mrs. Odell-Carney," she pleaded. "Don't
press me now. Everything shall be all right. Oh, how I wish Constance
were here! She understands. But she's off listening to silly love talk
and doesn't even care what happens to me. Burton, will you be good
enough to spank Tootles if she doesn't stop that screaming?"

By nine o'clock that night every one was discussing the significant
disappearance of Constance Fowler and the fraudulent husband of Mrs.
Medcroft. Just as Mr. Odell-Carney was preparing to announce to the
unfortunate wife that the couple had eloped in the most cowardly
fashion, Miss Fowler herself appeared on the scene, dishevelled,
mud-spattered, and hot, but with a look of firm determination in her
face. She strode defiantly through the main hall, ignoring the curious
gaze of the loungers, whisking the skirt of her habit with disdainful
abandon as she passed on to the lift. A few moments later she burst in
upon her sister, a very angry young person indeed. The Odell-Carneys
were down the hall discussing her strange defection; it was with no
little relief that they saw her enter the room.