It seemed an interminable time till a faint "Hello!" came over the wire, and he fancied the voice was a man's.
"Hello! Is that Mrs. Fairfax?" he asked. "I'd like to speak to Mrs.
Fairfax."
"Wait a minute, please. Who is it?" said a voice unmistakably masculine.
"Mr. Wallace," said Garrison, by way of precaution. "She'll understand."
"Hold the wire, please."
He held the receiver to his ear, and waited again. At length came a softer, more musical greeting. It was Dorothy. His heart was instantly leaping at the sound of her voice.
"Hello! Is that someone to speak to me?" she said. "This is Mrs.
Fairfax."
"Yes," answered Garrison. "This is Jerold. I felt I must find out about you—how you are. I've been distressed at the way I was obliged to leave."
"Oh!" said the voice faintly. "I—I'm all right—thank you. I must see you—right away." Her voice had sunk to a tone he could barely distinguish. "Where are you now?"
"Downtown," said Garrison. "Where shall I meet you?"