“It’s four o’clock, and after!”
“I admit it. You might be good enough to leave a call for me for eleven.”
“But—damn it, man!—that cab hasn’t come—”
“I can’t help that, can I?”
“I’m afraid something has happened to that girl.”
“Well, it’s too late to prevent it now—if so.”
“Good God! Have you no heart, man?” Staff began to stride distractedly up and down the room. “What am I to do?” he groaned aloud.
“Take unkie’s advice and go bye-bye,” suggested Iff. “Otherwise I’d be obliged if you’d rehearse that turn in the other room. I’m going to sleep if I have to brain you to get quiet.”
Staff stopped as if somebody had slapped him: the telephone bell was ringing again.
He flung himself across the room, dropped heavily into the chair and snatched up the receiver.