Eugene de Blaas paintings

I haven't a minute," he said a little breathlessly. "But I thought I'd just run in to know if Miss Daisy was safe home again. You got my telegram all right? I couldn't send no other kind of message."
"She's not back yet. Her father hasn't been gone long after her." Then, struck by a look in his eyes, "Joe, what's the matter?" she asked quickly.
There came a thrill of suspense in her voice, her face grew drawn, while what little colour there was in it receded, leaving it very pale.
"Well," he said. "Well, Mrs. Bunting, I've no business to say anything about it - but I will tell you !"
He walked in and shut the door of the sitting-room carefully behind him. "There's been another of 'em!" he whispered. "But this time no one is to know anything about it - not for the present, I mean," he corrected himself hastily. "The Yard thinks we've got a clue - and a good clue, too, this time."
"But where - and how?" faltered Mrs. Bunting