Sophie shook her off, with a sudden change of manner. "I am not a sentimental child. Don't waste any of that kind of stuff on me. Here I am, and here I stay. You'd better go and find something to amuse yourself. I'm busy." She turned abruptly away, and Penelope saw that further pleading would be futile. She accepted her dismissal with such philosophy as she could summon. Most of the rest of that day she spent in her own room, Sophie without any request being made, bringing her her meals on a tray. It was towards evening that she took a stroll in the grounds, and the dullness of her thoughts was distracted by the hooting of a car at the gates. Sophie Lengholm heard it too, and moved swiftly out with the key in her hand. A minute more and Larry Hughes' Rolls Royce had drawn within. Hughes himself was the first to descend. There was a blood stained contusion on his face that lent it an uncommonly sinister appearance. He seemed about to say something to her, but checked himself, and turned to the others who were pouring out of the car in grim silence. He grouped himself with others to assist one man down, and Penelope saw that blood-stained handkerchiefs enwrapped one of the feet of this individual. He was assisted into the house by two of his companions, and then a woman appeared in the doorway of the car. Penelope gave a little gasp. "Adèle!" she exclaimed. Mrs. Gertstein gave a sharp start. The next moment, half laughing and half crying, she had flung herself into the arms of the girl. "Oh, Pen," she cried, and relapsed into dry sobs. Larry Hughes turned a sour face upon them. "Take her into the house," he ordered. "Here, Sophie, we've another guest for you. Give Miss Noelson a hand. And get out some brandy. We can all do with a drink." Penelope's curiosity was all aflame, but for the moment she dared not ask questions. She walked with Adèle Gertstein and Sophie Lengholm into the morning-room, and there Sophie left them, returning in a little with a small glass which she forced into Mrs. Gertstein's hands. Then again she disappeared, apparently to carry refreshments to the men in an adjoining room. Mrs. Gertstein sipped silently, while Penelope waited till she should have somewhat recovered herself. What crisis had brought her friend to that place in Larry's company, was a question on which she could not but hazard mental speculation. From what she knew and guessed, the notion that at last the police had hit on something near the truth occurred to her as a wild probability. Or it might be that Adèle had been abducted in much the same way as herself, as a measure of precaution by Hughes. That was the more likely. She tried to think how it might affect her own case. Did it bode good or evil for her? As she finished the brandy, Mrs. Gertstein's drooping shoulders straightened up, and her dull eyes brightened. She slipped off her coat and hat and threw them nonchalantly to the floor.