Walraven.
"I am driven to the verge of madness among you! Mollie Dane and her
disappearance, my wife and her cursed taunts, you and your infernal
threats! Do your worst, the whole of you! I defy the whole lot!"
"Softly, softly," said Miriam, cooling down as he heated up. "I want an
explanation. You have lost Mollie! How was she lost?"
"Yes--how? You've asked the question, and I wish you would answer it.
I've been driving myself wild over it for the past few days, but I don't
seem to get to the solution. Can't your Familiar," pointing downward,
"help you guess the enigma, Miriam?"
Miriam frowned darkly.
"Do you really intend to say you have not made away with the girl
yourself?"
"Now what does the woman mean by that? What the deuce should I make away
with her for? I liked Mollie--upon my soul I did, Miriam! I liked her
better than any one in this house--the little, saucy, mischievous witch!
She was on the eve of marrying a baronet, and going to her castle in
Spain--I mean in Wales--when, lo! she vanishes like a ghost in a child's
tale. I've scoured the city after her--I've paid detectives fabulous
amounts.
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