“Mrs. Dorlan's, on Brownson street.”
“Mrs. Torren's?”
“MISS-ES—DOR-LAN'S!” shouted the voice.
Mary sighed fiercely and clinched her teeth unconsciously. “I will speak,” she thought, when the old voice ventured doubtingly,
“Mrs. Dorlan's?”
“That's it. Mrs. Dorlan's on Brownson street, will you remember it?”
“Mrs. Dorlan's, on Brownson street.”
“That's right. Please tell him just as soon as he comes to come right up.”
“All right—I'll tell him.”
“Poor old fellow!” said Mary as she turned from the 'phone, “but I don't want to go through any more ordeals like that. It was a good deal harder for me than for the other woman.”