“Proposed to the curate, and so all those slippers will be wasted. Don’t you think we had better—”
But I rang off and stopped the connection, for I felt sure that the communication was not intended for me.
Presently there was another ring at the bell, and this time I found myself connected with the exchange. I knew that it was the exchange, because they were all quarreling so.
“It was all your fault!” “No it wasn’t.” “Yes it was.” “Well, you know A. Fish, Esq., is 13,579—so there.” “Yes, and he wanted to be connected with the West Tower in the Palace.”
“Connect me with 13,579, please,” I called.
And a moment or two afterwards I heard a well-known voice sounding through the instrument, and I knew that A. Fish, Esq., was at the other end.
“Are you there?” he cried.
“Yes; what is it?” I asked.