“Yes, yes,” he said, “who is it?”
There was a whisper in reply almost inaudible, and quite unintelligible.
“I can’t hear you,” he said.
Again the whisper sounded, but with no greater distinctness. Then it ceased altogether.
He stood there, for some half minute or so, waiting for it to be renewed, but beyond the usual chuckling and croaking, which showed, however, that he was in communication with some other instrument, there was silence. Then he replaced the receiver, rang up the Exchange, and gave his number.
“Can you tell me what number rang me up just now?” he asked.
There was a short pause, then it was given him. It was the number of the prison, where he was doctor.
“Put me on to it, please,” he said.
This was done.
“You rang me up just now,” he said down the tube. “Yes; I am Doctor Teesdale. What is it? I could not hear what you said.”