"I'll have to have the number, sir," the operator said with firm sweetness.
Rick grew desperate. "Shucks, lady," he whined nasally. "You ain't goin' t'make me go through that business with that information gal again, are you?"
There was a subdued tinkle of laughter. "All right. I'll find it." There was a brief pause. "That number is Cornish 9-3834. Better write it down this time."
"I sure will," Rick said. He almost forgot and lapsed back into his own voice. But he didn't have to write it down. He wasn't forgetting it.
"What is your number, please?"
He gave it, then waited anxiously. In a moment a voice said, "Garden View Hotel."
The operator spoke. "One moment, please. Please deposit thirty cents."
Rick did so, and the bells clanged in his ear. When the ringing stopped, he said briskly, "Mr. James Killian, please."
"Just a minute." Then, "No one registered here by that name."
"Isn't this the Garden Arms Apartments?" Rick asked.