"Nothing personal, Willie," she giggled. "I just feel so relieved!"
"Who is it now?" demanded Rosenkrantz's voice. "You left the lens off, did you know that?"
"It's Willie, Joe. He came back and he's sitting down having tea."
"Back? Where was he?"
Westervelt told him.
Then he told him again and switched off. Joe, he thought, would have to live with it for a while.
When he stepped out of the cubicle, everyone was watching Smith narrate, with broad gestures, the flummoxing of the staid authorities of Greenhaven. The chief was not above calling upon Parrish for an estimate of the charms of Maria Ringstad that caused an outcry among the girls. Lydman smiled politely, but not from the heart. He was still quietly reserved.
Everyone was watching Smith. No one paid any attention to the redhaired man who drifted into the office area just as Westervelt squirmed past Pauline and stepped out of the switchboard room.
The youth blinked at the topcoat over the man's arm. He focused upon the wavy hair and reached for the man's shoulder to turn him around.
"Charlie Colborn!" he yelped.