'Yes.'
Hugo shivered, but whether it was from cold—he wore nothing but his pyjamas—or from apprehension he could not decide.
'I'm saying good-bye,' said the voice once more. 'I suppose you mean to have the police after me, and so I mean to get out of their way. See? But first I wished to tell you—crrrck cluck—Eh? What?'
'I didn't speak.'
'It's these Exchange hussies, then. I wanted to tell you I've thought a lot about our interview last night. What you said was true enough, Owen. I admit that, and so I am going to end it. Eh? Are you there? That girl keeps putting me off.'
'End what?'
'End it—it—it! I'm not making anybody happy, not even myself, and so I'm going to end it. But I'll tell you her address first. I know it.'
'Whose address?'
'Hers—Camilla's. If I tell you, will you promise not to say a word about me speaking to you on the telephone this morning?'
'Yes.'