“Mr. Lollins slay he got something velly important tellee missee.”
Helena went rapidly to the little room by the front door sacred to the telephone. The fear shook her that something had happened to Clive.
She sat down by the table and rang the bell.
“Halloo!” she said faintly.
“Halloo, Helena! is that you?” came Rollins’ hearty, reassuring voice.
“Yes. What do you want? I wish you wouldn’t bother me.”
“Awfully sorry, but I’ve a piece of news for you—a corker.”
“Well.”
“It’s about your Englishman.”
“My Englishman? What Englishman? What nonsense are you talking?”