She waited, breathless, in a quiver. The silence sang upon the wire, the silence of the night through which he was groping toward her….
"Hello! Is this Nine-o—"
"Yes, yes!"
"Is this the residence of Alexander C. Graeme?"
"Yes." The syllable almost choked her.
"Is this Miss Graeme at the 'phone?"
"It is."
"Miss Sylvia Graeme?"
"Yes."
"This is Daniel Maitland … Sylvia!"