“Nothing,” replied he.  “He denies that he has even spoken to her for nearly a year.  Apparently he has no interest in the case.  And yet I cannot quite believe that Lawton is as uninterested as he seems.  I know that he has often spoken about her to members of the Cosmos Club where he lives, and that he reads practically everything that the newspapers print about the case.”

“But you have no reason to think that there has ever been any secret communication between them?  Miss Georgette left no letters or anything that would indicate that her former infatuation survived?”

“None whatever,” repeated Mr. Gilbert emphatically.  “We have gone over her personal effects very carefully, and I can’t say they furnish a clue.  In fact, there were very few letters.  She rarely kept a letter.  Whether it was merely from habit or for some purpose, I can’t say.”

“Besides her liking for Dudley Lawton and her rather romantic nature, there are no other things in her life that would cause a desire for freedom?” asked Kennedy, much as a doctor might test the nerves of a patient.  “She had no hobbies?”

“Beyond the reading of some books which her mother and I did not altogether approve of, I should say no—­no hobbies.”

“So far, I suppose, it is true that neither you nor the police have received even a hint as to where she went after leaving the book-store?”

“Not a hint.  She dropped out as completely as if the earth had swallowed her.”

“Mrs. Gilbert,” said Kennedy, as our visitors rose to go, “you may rest assured that if it is humanly possible to find your daughter I shall leave no stone unturned until I have probed to the bottom of this mystery.  I have seldom had a case that hung on more slender threads, yet if I can weave other threads to support it I feel that we shall soon find that the mystery is not so baffling as the Missing Persons Squad has found it so far.”

Scarcely had the Gilberts left when Kennedy put on his hat, remarking:  “We’ll at least get our walk, if not the show.  Let’s stroll around to the Cosmos Club.  Perhaps we may catch Lawton in.”

Luckily we chanced to find him there in the reading-room.  Lawton was, as Mrs. Gilbert had said, a type that is common enough in New York and is very fascinating to many girls.  In fact, he was one of those fellows whose sins are readily forgiven because they are always interesting.  Not a few men secretly admire though publicly execrate the Lawton type.

I say we chanced to find him in.  That was about all we found.  Our interview was most unsatisfactory.  For my part, I could not determine whether he was merely anxious to avoid any notoriety in connection with the case or whether he was concealing something that might compromise himself.

“Really, gentlemen,” he drawled, puffing languidly on a cigarette and turning slowly toward the window to watch the passing throng under the lights of the avenue, “really I don’t see how I can be of any assistance.  You see, except for a mere passing acquaintance Miss Gilbert and I had drifted entirely apart—­entirely apart—­ owing to circumstances over which I, at least, had no control.”