“All your dreadful scientific things?” he said, with a smile that Miss Klegg thought extraordinarily kindly. “Even if he lives here you may go all your life and never come face to face with him again. I thought if you were living, and not captured, I should find you here,—and I was right. Vee’s all right. He had sold half a dozen short tales to thirdrate magazines; but this letter had been issued from a distinguished editorial room, of international reputation. And don’t tell me what you’ve been up to, dashing off to Remenham House with that Kimble lad, and Lord knows what besides, because I don’t want to know.
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