"Have you seen—?" Her voice trailed off.
"D'you mean the announcement? Yes, two minutes ago. Is it congratulations you're ringing up in this hurry?"
"Roddy, dear, don't be a beast!" the voice implored. "I'm in a horrible hole, and I think only you can help me. Is it possible for you to get leave, and come? Mamma asks me to say that there's a room here, and—and we want you!"
"As it happens," returned I, "there'll be no trouble about getting leave. We're to start—report says—at the end of the week, and I must be sent up to collect a few service odds-and-ends. As for sleeping, I'll ring up Jephson, and if he's already conscripted, I can doss at the Club. All that is easy. But tell me, what is the matter?"
"Oh! I can't here." Constantia's voice thrilled on the wire. "It's pretty awful. I never gave him leave—never!"
"You're getting pretty incoherent," said I. "We'll have it out when we meet. Dinner?… No, I shall pick up a meal on the train. … Mustn't expect me before 8.30; I have to put a draft through and see them off. Odd jobs, besides.… These are strenuous times."
"Roddy, you're an angel!"
"Not a bit," said I; "and I warn you not to expect me in that capacity. You'll observe that I haven't congratulated you yet." I put this in rather savagely.
"You're also rather a brute," answered the voice. "But you'll come?"
"Please God," said I.