Momeby in a
shriller tone. "We've hunted high and low, in house and garden
and outside the gates, and he's nowhere to be seen."
"Is he anywhere to he heard?" asked Clovis; "if not, he must be at
least two miles away."
"But where? And how?" asked the distracted mother.
"Perhaps an eagle or a wild beast has carried him off," suggested
Clovis.
"There aren't eagles and wild beasts in Surrey," said Mrs. Momeby,
but a note of horror had crept into her voice.
"They escape now and then from travelling shows. Sometimes I
think they let them get loose for the sake of the advertisement.
Think what a sensational headline it would make in the local
papers: ' Infant son of prominent Nonconformist devoured by
spotted hyaena.' Your husband isn't a prominent Nonconformist,
but his mother came of Wesleyan stock, and you must allow the
newspapers some latitude."
"But we should have found his remains," sobbed Mrs. Momeby.
"If the hyaena was really hungry and not merely toying with his
food there wouldn't be much in the way of remains. It would be
like the small-boy-and-apple story--there ain't going to be no
core."
Mrs. Momeby turned away hastily to seek comfort and counsel in
some other direction.
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