“Your name?”
“Mason.”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “Mr. Loftus is expecting you.”
“That’s nice,” Mason said.
“Will you wait a few minutes?”
Mason said, “No.”
She appeared ill at ease. “Just a moment,” she said, and, turning in the swivel chair, plugged in a telephone line. “Mr. Mason is here, Mr. Loftus. He says he won’t wait.”
There was evidently an argument at the other end of the line. The young woman listened attentively, then said simply, “But he won’t wait, Mr. Loftus.”
There followed another moment of silence, then she turned to smile at Perry Mason. “You may go right on in,” she said, indicating a gate which led to a hallway. “It’s the second door on the left.”
Mason pushed through the gate, marched down the corridor, and opened a door marked “Mr. Loftus, Private.”