"Just tell me one thing—is it a man or a woman?"
She began to laugh again, and if I'd been the man at the other end of the wire that laugh would have made me wild.
"Which do you think?" she asked.
"I don't think, I know," and I knew that he was mad.
"Well, if you know," she said as sweet as pie, "I needn't tell you any more. I'll say good-bye."
"No," he shouted, "don't hang up—wait. What do you want to torment me for?" Then he got sort of coaxing, "It isn't kind to treat a fellow this way. Can't you tell me who it is?"
"No, that's a secret. You can't know a thing till I choose to tell you and I don't choose now."
"If I come over Sunday afternoon will you see me?"
"What time?"
"Any time you say—I'm your humble slave, as you know."