“Hello, still there?”
“Yes.”
“I've thought of the name—father went to Elijah Thornton's.”
“Thornton's—let's see—have you a telephone directory handy—could you give me their number?”
“Wait a minute, I'll see.” She raced through the pages,—“yes, here it is.”
A violent peal from the Farmers' 'phone. “He'll think I'm still hunting for the number,” she thought, letting the receiver hang and rushing to the other 'phone.
“Hello.”
“Thought you was a-goin' to hold the 'phone. I've had a turrible time gittin' any answer.”
“I've had a turrible time, too,” thought poor Gertrude.
“Tell the doctor to call me up,” and he gave his name and his number.