"I hadn't thought of that," she interrupted ruefully. "Perhaps if I were to pay her—or him—extra wages it would be all right," she added, quickly. "We do not require much, you know."
I laughed rather shortly,—meanly, I fear.
"This is most extraordinary, madam!"
"I—I quite agree with you. I'm awfully sorry it had to turn out as it has. Who would have dreamed of your buying the place and coming here to upset everything?"
I resolved to be firm with her. She seemed to be taking too much for granted. "Much as I regret it, madam, I am compelled to ask you to evacuate—to get out, in fact. This sort of thing can't go on."
She was silent for so long that I experienced a slow growth of compunction. Just as I was on the point of slightly receding from my position, she gave me another shock.
"Don't you think it would be awfully convenient if you had a telephone put in, Mr. Smart?" she said. "It is such a nuisance to send Max or Rudolph over to town every whip-stitch on errands when a telephone—in your name, of course—would be so much more satisfactory."
"A telephone!" I gasped.
"Circumstances make it quite unwise for me to have a telephone in my own name, but you could have one in yours without creating the least suspicion. You are—"
"Madam," I cried, and got no farther.