But Peter was too elated to have found someone who knew him and who would be able to tell him where Jennie had gone, to notice anything, and said:
`Yes. And I'm looking for Jennie Baldrin, but I can't find her anywhere. Can you tell me where she is?'
Putzi and Mutzi exchanged another look, and now it was Mutzi who replied in a voice that was filled with primness and distaste. 'No, we cannot. And even if we knew, we would not tell you, so there.'
The little pang of fear and discomfort was returning to Peter now, and besides, he was feeling quite bewildered. `But why?' he asked. 'I don't understand. Where did she go? And why wouldn't you tell me?'
`Because,' replied both Putzi and Mutzi together now in chorus, 'We saw you!'
All the worst possibilities now crowded to Peter's mind, but he managed to stammer-'You saw me what …?'
`You and that foreigner from Siam,' Putzi replied, lifting her nose high in the air, in which scornful motion she was joined by Mutzi-which was a little strange seeing that they too were both foreigners. `Your dancing with her and carrying on right in the middle of the street, and staring like wass coming right out from your head your eyes. Oh yess. We saw you.'
`And putting your nose right up to hers and listening to the silly Poetry. We heard you too,' Mutzi chimed in.
'Und then so to running off with her,' Putzi continued. `WE went at once and told Jennie.'
`Oh!' said Peter, feeling now quite sick and sad in his heart, `What did she say?'
The sisters smiled prim little satisfied smiles. Putzi announced : `She said she didn't believe us, and that it iss some kind of a mistake.'
Mutzi added: `We advised her to go right away because you were not good enough for her. In spite of everything we tell her she says she will stay and wait because she knows you will come back soon.'
`But WE knew you wouldn't,' Putzi said triumphantly. 'We told her so. That Foreigner! Everybody in this neighbourhood knows her. Ach! Only a man could be so stupid. So now you have it. In the night she realize how we are right, because in the morning she iss gone. We have not seen her since, and we think it serves you right.'
Mutzi added acidly: `I suppose now you want her back.'
`Oh yes,' said Peter, not even caring that this self-righteous, gossipy pair should see his pain and his misery-'Yes, I do want her back. Most awfully.'
`Well,' said both in chorus again, `you won't get her. She's gone away for good.' And then turned away with their tails high in the air and twitching slightly with their indignation as they picked their way over the rubble and through the weeds to the rear of the hostel, leaving Peter alone.
Never had he felt so badly, not even when he had been turned into a cat and Nanny had pitched him out into the Mews. For that had been before he had met Jennie Baldrin. He knew now how much lonelier and unhappy one can feel after one has lost someone who has grown dear, than ever could have been possible before. And he knew, of course, that he deserved it.
But the real ache in his heart was for Jennie, who had thought only of him even to the point of leaving home and loved ones with whom she had just reunited, for his sake. For Peter had not been deceived by the casual manner in which she had dismissed her gesture. He knew that Jennie had made a decision that had cost her much, but she had been able to do it because she loved him. And this was how she had been repaid.
Peter went out from the hostel hardly realizing what he was doing, or seeing where he was going, for he was quite blinded by tears of remorse for his thoughtlessness and irresponsible behaviour, and as the lamps came alight in Cavendish Square he walked slowly along making a vow that somewhere, some– how, he would find her if he had to search for her the rest of his life, just so that with his last breath he could tell her that he had meant nothing by what he had done and that he cared for her and for her only.
Surely some place he would find her again, but his spirits sank when he thought of the magnitude of the city of London with its teeming millions of people and houses, and all the places where a small tabby cat with a white throat and mask, and gentle, loving eyes could crawl away to hide a broken heart.
Still, there must be a beginning made. And perhaps, oh perhaps, she had gone back to Buff around the corner in the Mews. Why had he not thought of that before? Surely, surely, deserted by him, that is what Jennie would have done.
Hope lifted him again, and with a little run and a skip he went dashing across to the Mews, to see.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: The Search
PETER sat on the pavement and watched outside Buff's house in the Mews, all through the long night with a heavy heart, for while it did not seem as though Jennie were there, he could not really be sure until the next day.
Lights were on in the house, first on the lower floors, then later spreading to the upstairs parts, and once he saw Buff's brown head framed by the window and against the yellow lamplight, but there seemed to be no Jennie draped about her shoulders.
Then one by one the windows went dark, not only in Penny's house, but all over the Mews, until soon the only illumination came from the street lamp at the corner and the moon overhead. Peter began calling to Jennie, softly at first, then louder and with all the misery and mournfulness that was in his heart, but there was no reply from her and not even the faintest hint of her presence coming in over the sensitive receiving-set of his whiskers and vibrissae. The only result of his wailing was that a window on the Mews was opened and someone cried-'Oh hush up, kitty. Be quiet! Go away!'
Thereafter he dared not call any longer, for he remembered the strictures placed by Mr. Black on their welcome in the neighbourhood depending upon their remaining quiet and not disturbing the residents. But remain there he must, just in case she had not replied because she was angry with him and thus there might still be hope of seeing or learning something about her on the morrow.
It was a long and lonely vigil out there on the pavement, but it passed at last with the coming of the milkman, and the darkness lifted from the east and turned first to grey, then to pearly pink, and thereafter shortly the sun arrived and brought with it the daylight.
There were yet many weary hours to wait until the Mews woke up, prior to beginning the new day.
At last the door to No. 2 opened and a gentleman wearing an important-looking homburg hat and carrying a black leather despatch case emerged and hurried off in the direction of the Square. Peter judged that this was probably Buff's father on the way to his business. Anyway, there was not much to be learned from him, but a short time later the door opened again and this time it was Buff who came out, accompanied by her mother. She was carrying her school bag, books and lunch.
So excited and eager did Peter become at the sight of her that he quite forgot himself and ran across the street to them crying-'Buff! Buff, please! Have you seen Jennie? Do you know where she is? I've been horrid to her and I must find her and tell her I'm sorry.'
But of course Buff could not understand a word he was saying. All she saw was a large and somewhat soiled-looking white cat running across the street to them mewing piteously. For a moment there seemed to be something familiar about him as though she had seen him somewhere before, and she gave Peter a long and fixed look as she passed by as though she was trying to remember something.
But Peter heard her say to her mother, `Mummy, why do you suppose that Jennie went away again after coming to find me? And do you think she will ever come back again. It's been days now … '