“Oh, Miss Gale, pity me. Tell me how to find her. That Fanny Dover says women are only enigmas to men; they understand one another.” “What,” said Rhoda, turning swiftly on him; “does that little chit pretend to read my noble Ina?” “If she cannot, perhaps you can. You are so shrewd. Do tell me, what does it all mean?” “It means nothing at all, I dare say; only a woman's impulse. They are such geese at times, every one of them.” “Oh, if I did but know what country she is in, I would ransack it.” “Hum!--countries are biggish places.” “I don't care.” “What will you give me to tell you where she is at this moment?” “All I have in the world.” “That is sufficient. Well, then, first assign me your estates; then fetch me an ordnance map of creation, and I will put my finger on her.” “You little mocking fiend, you!” “I am not. I'm a tall, beneficent angel; and I'll tell you where she is--for nothing. Keep your land: who wants it?--it is only a bother.” “For pity's sake, don't trifle with me.” “I never will, where your heart is interested. She is at Zutzig.” “Ah, you good girl! She has written to you.” “Not a line, the monster! And I'll serve her out. I'll teach her to play hide-and-seek with Gale, M.D.!” “Zutzig!” said Vizard; “how can you know?” “What does that matter? Well, yes--I will reveal the mental process. First of all, she has gone to her mother.” “How do you know that?” “Oh, dear, dear, dear! Because that is where every daughter goes in trouble. I should--she _has._ Fancy you not seeing that--why, Fanny Dover would have told you that much in a moment. But now you will have to thank _my_ mother for teaching me Attention, the parent of Memory. Pray, sir, who were the witnesses to that abominable marriage of hers?” “I remember two, Baron Hompesch--” “No, Count Hompesch.” “And Count Meurice.” “Viscount. What, have you forgotten Herr Formes, Fraulein Graafe, Zug the Capellmeister, and her very mother? Come now, whose daughter is she?” “I forget, I'm sure.” “Walter Ferris and Eva Klosking, of Zutzig, in Denmark. Pack--start for Copenhagen. Consult an ordnance map there. Find out Zutzig. Go to Zutzig, and you have got her. It is some hole in a wilderness, and she can't escape.” “You clever little angel! I'll be there in three days. Do you really think I shall succeed?” “Your own fault if you don't. She has run into a _cul-de-sac_ through being too clever; and, besides, women sometimes run away just to be caught, and hide on purpose to be found. I should not wonder if she has said to herself, 'He will find me if he loves me so very, very much--I'll try him.'” “Not a word more, angelic fox,” said Vizard; “I'm off to Zutzig.” He went out on fire. She opened the window and screeched after him, “Everything is fair after her behavior to me. Take her a book of those spiritual songs she is so fond of. 'Johnny comes marching home,' is worth the lot, I reckon.”