VII
"My daughter's not here?" he demanded from the threshold.
"Your daughter's not here." She had rapidly got under arms. "But it's a convenience to me, Mr. Prodmore, that you are, for I've something very particular to ask you."
Her interlocutor crossed straight to the morning-room. "I shall be delighted to answer your question, but I must first put my hand on Miss Prodmore." This hand the next instant stayed itself on the latch, and he appealed to the amiable visitor. "Unless indeed she's occupied in there with Captain Yule?"
The amiable visitor met the appeal. "I don't think she's occupied—anywhere—with Captain Yule."
Mr. Prodmore came straight away from the door. "Then where the deuce is Captain Yule?"
The amiable visitor turned a trifle less direct. "His absence, for which I'm responsible, is just what renders the inquiry I speak of to you possi-
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