Gently but firmly he moved her to a safe position. “But George, what are you—?”
“Watch,” he said.
The frantic voices stopped as he opened the door a foot. All eyes turned toward him as he stuck his head around the corner of the doorway into the room.
“Dit-dit-dit, ” he said. “ Dit-dit-dit.”
He ducked back and to the side just in time to escape the flying glass as a paperweight and an inkwell came through the pane of the door.
He grabbed Maisie and ran for the stairs.
“Now we get a drink,” he told her.
The bar across the street from the network building was crowded but it was a strangely silent crowd. In deference to the fact that most of its customers were radio people it didn’t have a TV set but there was a big cabinet radio and most of the people were bunched around it.
“Dit,” said the radio. “ Dit-dah-d’dah-dit-danditdah dit—”
“Isn’t it beautiful?” George whispered to Maisie.