You see, I never came to the town house. But since I retired and
came up here, and took to reading the Sunday papers, I begin to be
thankful that my ways have been country ways all my life."
"No need to alarm ourselves, I'm sure," Quest intervened, making his way
towards the door. "Lenora is a particularly capable young lady. I feel
sure she'd look after herself. I am going right back to the hotel, Mrs.
Willet, and I'll let you know directly I hear anything."
"I shall be very anxious, Mr. Quest," she reminded him, earnestly, "very
anxious indeed. Lenora was my sister's favourite child, and my sister--"
Quest had already opened the front door for himself and passed out. He
sprang into the taxi which he had kept waiting.
"Clifford's Hotel in Payne Street," he told the man sharply.
He lit a cigar and smoked furiously all the way, throwing it on to the
pavement as he hurried into the quiet private hotel which a
fellow-passenger on the steamer had recommended as being suitable for
Lenora's one night alone in town.
"Can you tell me if Miss Lenora Macdougal is staying here?" he asked at
the office.
The woman shook her head.
"Miss Macdougal stayed here the night before last," she said, "and her
luggage is waiting for orders. She left here yesterday afternoon to go to
her aunt's, and promised to send for her things later on during the day.
There they stand, all ready for her."
Quest followed the direction of the woman's finger. Lenora's familiar
little belongings were there, standing in a corner of the hall.
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