"Hullo, Amy!" he answered. "You there? Sorry. Look here, I know it's cheek; and I apologise. But I must talk to Patricia, d'you see. Our last talk was interrupted."
"Patricia's talks seem to be subject to interruption. Her talk with me was interrupted."
"I know. By me," Harry said, charmingly. "It's too bad."
Patricia was mechanically putting on her mackintosh as they squabbled. She smoothed her hair; and a curious excitement which had risen in her was transformed into intrepidity. So may a man in danger become aware of new alert vitality. She heard the remarks without observing their content, so engrossed was she with thoughts of her own.
"How's Rhoda?" asked Amy suddenly. It came like a stab, and like a stab was Patricia's glance at Harry. His own glance towards her was as sharp, as keen.
"Very well, I think," said Harry, in a patient voice.
"She's away, isn't she?"
"I really don't know."
Amy again gave that strained laugh of sarcasm.
"Oho!" she laughed. "Harry!"