I leaped to my feet, prepared to meet anything, man or devil. Garrick seized me and pulled me down, a strong hint to be quiet. Too surprised to remonstrate, since nothing happened, I waited, breathless.
"Yes, but that is better than to be too late. Besides, we've got to watch that Garrick," said another voice. "He might be around."
Garrick chuckled.
I had noticed a peculiar metallic ring in the voices.
"Where are they?" I whispered, "On the landing below?"
Garrick laughed outright, not boisterously, but still in a way which to me was amazing in its bravado, if the tenants were really so near.
"What's this?" I asked.
"Don't you recognize it?" he answered.
"Yes," I said doubtfully. "I suppose it's like that thing we used down at the Old Tavern."
"Only more so," nodded Garrick, aloud, yet careful not to raise his voice, as before, so as not to disturb the flat dwellers below us. "A vocaphone."