He decided not to “jingle her maid” at once but to await the hour first suggested by the “blond” cashier before asking answers. Jane Lauderdale looked the kind of girl who would have arisen by ten a.m. At any rate, he would give her benefit of doubt. But no mental preparation during the interim, as to what tack her temper might take, in any way prepared him for that morning’s second shock.
Jasper answered—there was no mistaking his voice. Pape followed the announcement of his name with a comment over the speed with which the telephone had been fixed, to which the born butler replied smoothly, impersonally, non-committally.
“Yes, Mr. Pape. The Telephone Company is exceedingly efficient, sir.”
The request for speech with Miss Lauderdale was met with equal competence.
“The family is all out. They left early this morning for the country, sir, to seek a few days of peace and quiet.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, Mr. Pape, all of them.”
“What’s their address?”
“They left no address. They never do, sir, when they go for peace and quiet. Good day, sir.”
With which, actually, that sebacious, ostentatious, fallacious importation had hung up on him.