``He was toddling about quite happily on the lawn,'' said
Mrs. Momeby tearfully, ``and Arnold had just come in, and I
was asking him what sort of sauce he would like with the
asparagus---''
``I hope he said hollandaise,'' interrupted Clovis, with a
show of quickened interest, ``because if there's anything I
hate---''
``And all of a sudden I missed Baby,'' continued Mrs.
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 be 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 hy
na.
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