`H'm. Ask her if she's got anybody to bring her over here.'
`What the devil…! Oh, all right,' Hadley agreed, then spoke again. `She says she's got Dalrye,' he transmitted after a moment.
`That won't do. There's somebody in that house I've got to talk to, and I've got to talk to him out of the house or it may be no good. Let me talk to her, will you?'
Hadley shrugged and got up from the desk.
`Hello!' said the doctor. `Miss Bitton? This is Dr Fell, Mr Hadley's colleague.You do? Oh yes; from your fiance.
HEY?'
'You needn't blow the mouthpiece out,' Hadley observed, sourly. `What tact! What tact! Ha!'
'Excuse me, Miss Bitton. I may be, of course, the fattest walrus Mr Dalrye has ever seen, but… No, my dear, of course I don't mind….'
they could hear the phone tinkling in an animated fashion; Rampole remembered Mrs Larkin's description of Sheila Bitton as a `little blonde,' and grinned to himself. Dr Fell contemplated the phone with an expression of one trying to smile in order to have his picture taken, presently he broke in.
`What I was trying to say, Miss Bitton, was this. You'll undoubtedly have a number of things to take away, and they'll be quite bulky…. Oh! Mr Dalrye has to be back at the Tower by ten o'clock? Then you will certainly want somebody to handle them. Haven't you somebody there who could?… The chauffeur's not there? Well, what about your father's valet? What's his name? — Marks. He spoke highly of Marks, and… But please don't bring your father, Miss Bitton; it would only make him feel worse. Oh, he's lying down? Very well, Miss Bitton. We shall expect you. Good-bye.'