"No, but the soup will twickle down all right," said Pipette, whose mind, busy with works of mercy, soared far above these utilitarian details. (In later years she was a confirmed bazaar organiser.)
"We'll ring and tell him first, shall we?" suggested Pip.
"Yes, let's!" murmured Pipette joyfully.
She turned the call-handle, and Pip held the receiver, just as he had seen Mr. Evans do. After a decent interval he remarked into the cup—
"Are you there, Mr. Pipes? This is us."
This highly illuminating statement met with no response.
"I suppose he can hear you," said Pipette anxiously.
"Oh, yes. I'm talkin' just as loud as Mr. Evans does."
"I suppose you'll be able to hear him, then?"
"I expect so. But it's a long way. Ring again."