She was interested to discover that she felt a vague alarm.
Gone. Disappeared.
What do you mean?
I called him up this afternoon. Drains told me. The hall-boy reports that he came in last night, but went out again immediately. I questioned Drains further. He knew the reason for Harold's departure. When he got home he found Zimbule occupying his bed.
Campaspe smiled. The girl is not without guile, but I hadn't thought she would do that . . . Yet, she said she would.
She did. Drains gave her the key. His father . . .
That horrible father! Campaspe exclaimed in a tone of disgust. What is he trying to do to the boy?
I am beginning to wonder myself. Even Drains feels a little contrite. You see, he likes Harold.
You can't help liking him. . . . Have you been to Ronald's?
Yes. One of the Ceylonese sent me up to the bathroom. Ronald was immured there, lustily singing Old black Joe. . . . I interviewed him through the door. He knew nothing about Harold.
What has Drains done?
Nothing. He has strict orders not to appeal to Mr. Prewett for help in emergencies. Besides, it is obvious that the boy has merely run away to
