“I’m glad you’ve had a good night,” she began, again ignoring his maladroit flippancy, “because I want to talk to you.”

“Darling,” he responded.  “Pour out my tea for me, will you?  Then I shall be equal to any strain.  I trust that you also passed a fair night, madam.  You look tremendously fit.”

Visions of Lady Massulam flitted through his mind, but he decided that Eve, seriously pouring out tea for him under the lamp in the morning twilight of the pale bedroom, could not be matched by either Lady Massulam or anybody else.  No, he could not conceive a Lady Massulam pouring out early tea; the Lady Massulams could only pour out afternoon tea—­a job easier to do with grace and satisfaction.

“I have not slept a wink all night,” said Eve primly.  “But I was determined that nothing should induce me to disturb you.”

“Yes?” Mr. Prohack encouraged her, sipping the first glorious sip.

“Well, will you believe me that Sissie slipped out last night after dinner without saying a word to me or any one, and that she didn’t come back and hasn’t come back?  I sat up for her till three o’clock—­I telephoned to Charlie, but no! he’d seen nothing of her.”

“Did you telephone to Ozzie?”

“Telephone to Ozzie, my poor boy!  Of course I didn’t.  I wouldn’t have Ozzie know for anything.  Besides, he isn’t on the telephone at his flat.”

“That’s a good reason for not telephoning, anyway,” said Mr. Prohack.

“But did you ever hear of such a thing?  The truth is, you’ve spoilt that child.”

“I may have spoilt the child,” Mr. Prohack admitted.  “But I have heard of such a thing.  I seem to remember that in the dear dead days of dancing studios, something similar occurred to your daughter.”

“Yes, but we did know where she was.”

“You didn’t.  I did,” Mr. Prohack corrected her.

“Do you want me to cry?” Eve demanded suddenly.

“Yes,” said Mr. Prohack.  “I love to see you cry.”

Eve pursed her lips and wrinkled her brows and gazed at the window, performing great feats of self-control under extreme provocation to lose her temper.

“What do you propose to do?” she asked with formality.

“Wait till the girl comes back,” said Mr. Prohack.

“Arthur!  I really cannot understand how you can take a thing like this so casually!  No, I really can’t!”

“Neither can I!” Mr. Prohack admitted, quite truthfully.

He saw that he ought to have been gravely upset by Sissie’a prank and he was merely amused.  “Effect of too much sleep, no doubt,” he added.

Eve walked about the room.