"Let me read it, if you don't mind?" asked Kennedy.
"Not at all," agreed, Doyle, handing the copy to Craig.
Together we read it.
"Good morning," it began. "Is this you, Honora?"
"Oh, good morning," she replied.
(It was apparent that Mrs. Wilford recognized the voice, but she was cautious about repeating the name.)
"I've something very important to tell you—but—well, not over the telephone. Is anybody listening?"
"I don't know. I suppose there is. Everything I do is spied on and watched. I can't write a letter. I can't go out—"
"I suppose that's right. If you went out you'd be followed. There's no place that's safe. Probably somebody's getting an earful of this," came back the other voice. "Still, I've something very important to say to you. Hang it! I'm going to drop in and see you, Honora. This isn't an autocracy—yet. They can't prevent me talking to you in your own home. Though, I suppose, even that is an offense. However, I'll call. Keep a stiff upper lip. Don't let them put anything over on you."
Mrs. Wilford must have tried to laugh it off, for the operative had drawn a line indicating a laugh and had added merely the repetition of the words, "Good-by."