"[...] "Pretty girls?" he repeated in a softer voice. "Where are they staying? Of course, under the circumstances a personal encounter is superfluous. Where are they staying?" "At Guilford's. I told you so in my telegrams, didn't I?" "No, you didn't. You spoke only of a poet and his eight helpless children." "Well, those girls are the eight children," retorted Briggs sullenly, emerging from the station.[...]".