"I do blame them! They've no right to accuse that girl unheard."

"The waiter--"

"Oh, yes, I know, the waiter! Well, don't let's quarrel about it. I
can't stay here much longer, though. I made coffee and got myself some
breakfast--but, honest, Mr. Calhoun, it pretty nearly choked me to eat
sandwiches that had been made for last night's surprise supper!"

"I should think it would! Didn't any rolls come, or milk, you know?"

"I didn't see any. Well, I'll go home this morning, but I shall
telephone up here every little while. The police will stay here, I
suppose."

"Yes, for a day or two. Do you think Vicky will come back?"

"I don't know. She'll have to, sooner or later. I tried to make
myself sleep in her room last night, but I just couldn't. So I stayed
in the music room, I thought--I suppose it was foolish--but I thought
maybe she might telephone."

"She'd hardly do that."

"I don't know. It's impossible to say _what_ she might do. Oh, the
whole thing is impossible! Think of it, Mr. Calhoun. Where could that
girl have gone? Alone, at midnight, in that gorgeous gown, no hat or
wrap--"