"Still, as a brother of one, I'm bound to search, if it
takes all night. A sister's a sister. And mine is quite a valuable
asset." He tossed me this hint with a Puck-like air of a private
understanding established between us. Yes, "Puck-like" describes him: a
Puck at the same time merry and malicious, never to be counted upon!
"I feel that Miss O'Farrell went out to take a walk because she was
restless, and perhaps not very happy," Brian reproached us both.
"Something may have happened--remember we're in the war zone."
"No one in Nancy's likely to forget that!" said I, dully resenting his
defence of the enemy. "Brushing bombs out of their back hair every ten
minutes or so! And listen--don't you hear big guns booming now, along
the front? The German lines are only sixteen kilometres from here."
Brian didn't answer. His brain was pursuing Dierdre O'Farrell, groping
after her through the night. "If she went out before that air raid,
while we were at the Prefet's," he suggested, "she may have had to take
refuge somewhere--she may have been hurt----"
"By Jove!" Puck broke in. "It scares me when you say that. You're a--a
sort--of _prophet_, you know! I must find out what hospitals there
are----"
"We'll go with you to the hotel," Brian promised. "They'll know there
about the hospitals. And if the Prefet's still up, he'll phone for us
officially, I'm sure."
"It's you who are the practical one, after all!" cried O'Farrell.
Pages:
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125