“Again?” groaned the telephone girl, as Zizi earnestly began to whisper her questions.
“Yes, again—and yet.” Zizi said: “Now, listen, and tell me this. What did Mr Pollard say when he called his cab that night?”
“Why, that’s a funny thing. Why do you ask that? He said ‘Will you call me a cab, please.’”
“Why was that funny?”
“Because he always says, ‘Call me a taxi.’ I remember, because I’m afraid some time I’ll say, ‘You’re a taxi!’”
“Funny girl! Well, I’m trying to prove that Mr Pollard was not himself that night!”
“Oh—Mr Pollard never drinks anything.”
“How do you know?”
“I just happen to know. You’re wrong, he was perfectly sober.”
“Then why did he telephone to the cleaner’s when he knew it was past their closing time?”