Then he said slowly: "Yes, it's pretty bad.

I'm sorry Mallory had to leave this morning." "Oh, well," murmured Kitty vaguely, "a well-known writer like that often has to dash off to town in the middle of a holiday.

Things crop up, you know"-- still more vaguely.
St.John paused in the middle of his pacing and, putting his hand under Kitty's chin, tilted her face upward, scrutinising it with a kindly, quizzical gaze.
"Lookers-on see most of the game, my dear," he observed, "I've no doubts about the 'business' which called Mallory away." "You've guessed, then ?" "I was there when we first thought Nan might be in danger last night--and I saw his face.

Then I was sure.

I'd only suspected before." "I knew," said Kitty simply.