till last night, when Adrian had a fit of insomnia and amused
himself by unscrewing and transposing all the bedroom numbers on
his floor. He transferred the bathroom label to the adjoining
bedroom door, which happened to be that of Frau Hoftath Schilling,
and this morning from seven o'clock onwards the old lady had a
stream of involuntary visitors; she was too horrified and
scandalized it seems to get up and lock her door. The would-be
bathers flew back in confusion to their rooms, and, of course, the
change of numbers led them astray again, and the corridor
gradually filled with panic-stricken, scantily robed humans,
dashing wildly about like rabbits in a ferret-infested warren. It
took nearly an hour before the guests were all sorted into their
respective rooms, and the Frau Hofrath's condition was still
causing some anxiety when we left. Susan is beginning to look a
little worried. She can't very well turn the boy adrift, as he
hasn't got any money, and she can't send him to his people as she
doesn't know where they are. Adrian says his mother moves about a
good deal and he's lost her address. Probably, if he truth were
known, he's had a row at home. So many boys nowadays seem to
think that quarrelling with one's family is a recognized
occupation."

Lucas's next communication from the travellers took the form of a
telegram from Mrs. Mebberley herself. It was sent "reply
prepaid," and consisted of a single sentence: "In Heaven's name,
where is Beth?"