Benis smiled, a wry smile, and pushed back his cup.

"You don't look fit to go anywhere," said Aunt Caroline irritably. "Why
can't you call John on the 'phone?"

"That would be quite modern," said Benis. "But--I think I'll see him. I
shan't be long."

It never once occurred to the professor, you will notice, that he might
find John vanished also. His obsessing thought had not been able to
change his essential knowledge of either Desire or John. If Desire had
gone, she had gone because she could not stay. But she had gone alone.
Just what determining thing had happened to make her flight imperative,
Benis could not guess. But he would not have been human if he had not
blamed the other man. "The fool has bungled it!" he thought. "Lost
control of his precious feelings, perhaps--broken through--said
something--frightened her." We may be sure that he cursed John in his
heart very completely.

But when he entered John's office and saw John he began to doubt even
this. There was no guilt on the doctor's face--no sign of apprehension
or regret, no tremor of knowledge. An angry-eyed young man looked up
from a letter he was reading with nothing more serious than injured
wonder in his gaze.

"Can you beat it?" asked John disgustedly, waving the letter. "Aren't
women the limit? Here's this one going off without a word, or an
excuse, or anything. Just gone! And a silly note thrown on my desk. I
tell you women have absolutely no sense of business
obligation--positively not!"

Spence restrained himself.

"You are speaking of--?"

"That nurse of mine, Miss Watkins. Never a word about leaving
yesterday, and today vanished--vamoosed--simply non est! Look at what
she says.--"

Spence pushed the letter aside.

"There is something more important than that, John," he said quietly,
"Desire has left me."

The two men stared at each other. Spence was the first to speak.

"There is no doubt about it. She is gone. She has not told us where. I
see that you do not know."

John shook his head.

"There may be a note for you in the morning's mail." Benis was coldly
brief. "I must know where she is. If you can help me, let me know." He
turned to the door.

With difficulty John found his voice.

"I knew nothing of this, Benis."

"I realize that," dryly. "But you may be responsible for it. She had no
idea of leaving yesterday."

"Benis, I swear--"

"It is not necessary. Besides," bitterly, "you could afford to be
patient.