“Julia!”
Miss Willow nodded. Then she put out her hands, and Challenger caught them in his.
“You were perfectly right,” she said. “You always are. South Street is incomparable. And I thought, perhaps, if you didn’t think me too capricious to live with . . . in South Street . . .”
“My blessed darling,” said Hubert, with his cheek against hers. “My beautiful——”
Here the telephone stammered an interruption.
Challenger kissed his lady. Then he lifted his head.
“George,” he said, “for a monkey.”
Miss Willow picked up the receiver.
“Is that you, Julia?” cried Fulke.
“Oh, George,” said Miss Willow, “I am so glad you rang up. I want you to do something for me.”