"Who's that?" the voice asked abruptly.
"Coniston Mansions, No. 57," Virginia answered, disguising her voice as much as possible.
"Yes! but who is it in my rooms? That isn't Janion's voice, is it?"
Then Virginia knew that the person who spoke was Norris Vine himself, and before every word she uttered she hesitated, thinking always of the listener outside.
"No, it's not Janion," she answered. "What do you want?"
"I wanted to know whether my servant was there," the voice replied. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my rooms?"
"Gone into the country?" Virginia said, speaking in a loud tone of surprise. "You mean that he will not be here to-night, after all?"
The voice down the telephone came angry and perplexed.
"What the devil are you talking about?" it asked. "I am Norris Vine, and I am speaking into my own rooms. I want to know who you are, and what are you doing there."
"Then I think," Virginia continued, still speaking loudly, "that you might be a little more careful before you send me on a fool's errand like this. Here have I been waiting for half an hour for a man who you declared was certain to come here before eleven o'clock. Now you tell me that he is not returning to-night at all, gone into the country, or some rubbish. Why can't you make sure of your facts? You seem to repeat any stuff that's told you, and then think that it doesn't matter so long as you say that you're sorry. How about my wasted time sitting here, to say nothing of the risk of being taken for a thief!"