“Is that Miss Pritchard?” asked a voice that made her pulses hasten.
“Yes? Who is that?”
“The mere worm,” came back the cheery answer.
“What’s the matter? You sound somewhat funereal. Was Brother Dudley very angry?”
“Terrible. I am still recovering. He seemed to have grave doubts as to whether you really were the eminent person you professed to be!”
“Oh, he did, did he? And what did you say?”
“That it was quite possible you were only a third-rate actor all the time.”
“Thanks. I shall not grow vain on your compliments. Have you any grave doubts yourself?”
“I don’t mind either way.”
“Thanks again. Well, I am speaking to you from my own private sanctum at the House of Commons; and if you want to make sure, you can take my number, and ring up the Exchange and inquire.”