"I wish you'd sent us word last night," said Marise, whose eyes were bright, and whose hand, holding the receiver, had begun to throb as if she had a heart in her wrist.
"I didn't know last night. The news I spoke of came this morning."
"It must have come early!"
"It did. Good-bye, Mrs. Garth."
"Wait just a second. Are you going—West?"
"Ye-es. For awhile."
"You can't tell me where?"
"Oh, several places. Not far from my old home."
"Did you ever mention where that was?"
But no answer came. Either they had been cut off, or Zélie Marks had impudently left the telephone.