"
"Do you know by what photographer?"
"I don't! An' I don't care! Piccadilly they had on 'em, which
was good enough for me."
"Have you her picture?"
"No!"
"Did she receive a letter on the day of her disappearance?"
"Maybe."
"Good day!" said Harley. "And let me add that the atmosphere of
her home was hardly conducive to ideal conduct!"
Leaving Bramber to digest this rebuke, we came out of the
cottage. Dusk was falling now, and by the time that we regained
the Manor the place was lighted up. Inspector Wessex was waiting
for us in the library, and:
"Well?" he said, smiling slightly as we entered.
"Nothing much," replied Harley dryly, "except that I don't wonder
at the girl's leaving such a home."
"What's that! What!" roared a big voice, and Sir Howard came
into the room. "I tell you, Bramber only had one fault as a
stepfather; he wasn't heavy-handed enough. A bad lot, sir, a bad
lot!"
"Well, sir," said Inspector Wessex, looking from one to another,
"personally, beyond the usual inquiries at railway stations,
etc., I cannot see that we can do much here. Don't you agree
with me, Mr. Harley?"
Harley nodded.
"Quite," he replied. "There is a late train to town which I
think we could catch if we started at once.
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