The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. “Yes. But no one could explain the disappearance of Michelle’s parents, nor could the police find a fingerprint or even a clothing fiber to trace what had happened to them.
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