'Can I use the telephone, Silburn?' he asked.
'With pleasure, my dear boy,' was the unhesitating reply. 'You'll find an instrument this way.'
They were all crossing the hall. The men and the women were to smoke and take their coffee together. Silburn led his young guest into a small waiting-room, comfortably furnished. On a table in the middle of the apartment was a telephone instrument and a book of subscribers. Lavendale took up the receiver.
'Can you get through to London?' he asked.
'Sorry, sir, the line is engaged,' the operator regretted.
'Will it be free presently?'
'I'll ring up as soon as we can get through. What number?'
Lavendale gave the number of his own rooms and rejoined the little group in the hall. He found Barracombe on one side of Suzanne and his host on the other, but he drew a chair as near to her as he could.
'Get through all right?' Silburn inquired.
'I didn't get through anywhere,' Lavendale replied. 'The line was engaged.'