“Miss Mallow, is Mrs. Shortman right? do I waste my time?”
The girl at the typewriter blushed vividly, and, without looking round, said:
“How can I tell, Mr. Vigil? But it does worry one.”
A humorous and perplexed smile passed over Gregory's lips.
“Now I know I shall cure her,” he said. “2 Bilcock Buildings.” And he continued to look at the sky. “How's your neuralgia, Mrs. Shortman?”
Mrs. Shortman smiled.
“Awful!”
Gregory turned quickly.
“You feel that window, then; I'm so sorry.”
Mrs. Shortman shook her head.