THE SEARCH For the third time Nick looked at his watch.

It was nearly one.

He jumped to his feet with a grimace.
"What on earth are those girls up to ?" Rapidly he locked drawer after drawer of his writing-table, gathered up a sheaf of papers, and turned to go.
The library at Redlands overlooked a wide lawn that led through shrubberies to the edge of the cliff, up the face of which had been cut a winding path.

He paused a moment considering this.

Would they return from the shore by that way?
If so, he would miss them if he went in search of them by the drive.
Impatiently he turned back towards the window, and in that moment he caught sight of a flying figure crossing the lawn,--Olga, with a white, strained face, hatless, dishevelled, gasping.
Nick's one arm fought with the heavy window and flung it up.