The telephone rang sharply just as Bertha Cool was getting ready to say something. Bertha grabbed the telephone, jerked the receiver off the hook, put it to her ear, said, “Hello,” then, “Who is this calling? All right. He’s sitting here waiting for you.”
She handed me the telephone. I said, “Hello,” and Esther Clarde’s voice said, “You know who this is?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I have to see you.”
“I figured you’d want to.”
“Are you free to leave?”
“Yes.”
“Can I come to your apartment?”
“Better not.”
“You had better not come to mine. Perhaps I can meet you somewhere.”