“Well,” she said, looking sharply at George, “where is my lawyer? I thought I told you to bring him with you. Where is he?” The boy braced up bravely and looked at his mother courageously in the eye, a slightly apologetic smile on his lips. “Sorry, Mother,” he said courteously, “so far as I can find out, he has gone out of the country. The nearest suggestion I could get from his office or his home either, is that he went to Canada to spend a few months in the woods and try to recover from a severe nervous breakdown. And he has ordered his secretary and what there is left of his family not to disclose his address to anybody. I’ve done my best to get some other answer, but there doesn’t seem to be any way to get any further information.” Mrs. Huntley’s face was stony cold and the look she gave her children was as if she suspected them of making up this story. But after a few minutes of characteristic storming and questioning, she began to cry. Just big stormy tears pelting down her angry cheeks and her lips trembling almost pitifully.
