“How what?” asked Mrs. Quantock, when the sneezing was over.
“I’ve forgotten now. I shall get back to my rolling. A little chilly. I’ve done half the lawn.”
A telephone-bell had been ringing for the last few seconds, and Mrs. Quantock localized it as being in his house, not hers. Georgie was rather deaf, however much he pretended not to be.
“Your telephone bell’s ringing, Georgie,” she said.
“I thought it was,” said Georgie, who had not heard it at all.
“And come in presently for a cup of tea,” shouted Mrs. Quantock.
“Should love to. But I must have a bath first.”
Georgie hurried indoors, for a telephone call usually meant a little gossip with a friend. A very familiar voice, though a little husky and broken, asked if it was he.
“Yes, it’s me, Lucia,” he said in soft firm tones of sympathy. “How are you?”
Lucia sighed. It was a long, very audible, intentional sigh. Georgie could visualize her putting her mouth quite close to the telephone, so as to make sure it carried.