“Will you please telephone him there to bring a roast with him?”
“To bring what?”
“A roast.”
Mary was nonplussed. Her husband had the reputation of “roasting” his patients and their attendants on occasion. Had an occasion arisen now?
“Why, ye-es,” she began, uncertainly, when the voice spoke again.
“I mean a roast of beef, Mrs. Blank. I thought as the doctor was coming he wouldn't mind stopping at the butcher's and bringing me a roast—tell him a good-sized one.”
The receiver clicked. Mary still held hers. Then she rang the office.
“What is it?” Great haste spoke in the voice.
“John, Mrs. Shortridge wants you to bring her a roast of beef when you go down.”
“The devil she does!”