Collingwood made a warning gesture with his left hand, telling her to keep quiet.
"Yes," he said; "we took the wrong train. Yes, Collingwood. Yes, it is he speaking."
"Where is he?" came hissing to the ears of the man at the telephone. Again he motioned her to silence, giving a slight impatient tap with his foot upon the carpet.
"Oh yes. We have just finished supper. What? I can't hear you distinctly. You want to speak to Ellerdine? Hold the line a moment; I'll call him."
He put down the receiver upon the table and ran up to Peggy, who was shaking like a leaf in the wind.
"He wants to speak to you, too, I think," Collingwood said in a low, fierce whisper; "but perhaps you had better not."
"I can't," Peggy answered, swaying this way and that as if about to fall. He put out his arm and steadied her.
"All right, darling," he said; "it is all right!"
"Where is he? London?" she said.
"I didn't ask," he replied. "Wait a minute!"