A thin and business-like voice detailed his number.
“Just a moment,” came out of the night. “Hold the wire.”
There was a pause in which it occurred to him that a little light would be a grateful thing. He groped for his desk-lamp, found it and scorched his fingers slightly on its metal reflector. He had switched on the light and said “Damn!” mechanically before he reflected that the said metal reflector had no right to be hot unless the light had been burning very recently.
As this thought penetrated his consciousness, the telephone waxed eloquent.
“Hello!” called a voice. “Is that you, Staff?”
“Why!” he exclaimed in surprise—“yes, Alison!”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes,” he said. “What is it?”
“I just wanted to know,” returned the girl at the other end of the wire. “I’m coming to see you.”