Angela stood up, as Sarah and Blackie came toward her. There was a wide smile on her face and, when he stopped in front of her, she stretched out her hand to shake, staring up into his face.

Blackie took it, held it tightly in his, gazing down at her, savoring the moment. Her blue eyes were sparkling and there was a faint blush on her neck and cheeks. He knew she felt as he did.

She broke the intensity, the silence, between them. “Welcome to my house, Blackie. Come, sit down, and Sarah will help me serve lemonade.”

“Thank ye,” he managed to say, once again overwhelmed by her beauty and her simple but elegant dress. It was a pale lilac color that accentuated her eyes, cut with a low, scooped-out bodice and loose sleeves, with the slimmer silhouette that was becoming popular. Her skin was pale ivory and he wanted to touch her, love her. He stepped away and hovered near a chair, his heart thudding.

Soon the three of them were sitting together enjoying the last of the afternoon sun. Sarah was talking.

“So Alf has kept me informed, Blackie. I was just telling Angela, before you arrived, that Gwen has still not come home. Nor has she been found.”

Blackie nodded. “I had heard that too. ’Tis a true mystery, I be thinking. Apparently the local police have scoured Upper Armley, have gone through Gotts Park and Armley Park, and every lane nearby. No trace of her.”

“This must be quite awful for her mother,” Angela murmured. “Poor woman, she must be frantic with worry.”

“She is,” Sarah said. “And so is Alf. He blames himself, well, sort of, because of that tiff they had the night before.”

Blackie said, “Alf had nothing ter do with this situation. In my opinion, I think Gwen had a new chap and either went off with him or she was snatched by a stranger.”

His words startled both women, and Angela frowned and gave him a quick look. “Who would snatch her, for Heaven’s sake?”

“An evil man with bad intentions,” Blackie replied in a low, serious voice.

Angela looked aghast and shuddered.

Sarah said, “I can’t help thinking you are right.” She shook her head. “I hope it’s a new chap, not a bad man out to do her harm.”

“Oh goodness me, yes…,” Angela said. After a pause, she went on, “Let’s talk about something less harrowing, please. Is anyone going to the York races this summer?”

“I agree,” Blackie said grimly, and took a sip of lemonade.

Sarah, who always seemed well informed about what was happening in the streets where they lived, did most of the talking. She was laden with gossip.