"I can't send a message. You must fetch him." Gerald Burton's stock of patience was giving way. Again there was an irritating pause, but it was broken at last.
"Who is it? I can't fetch him if you won't say who you are."
"I am speaking on behalf of Mrs. Dampier," said Gerald reluctantly. Somehow he hated uttering Nancy's name to this tiresome unknown.
And then began an absurd interchange of words at cross purposes.
"Mr. Larkspur?"
"No," said Gerald. "Mrs. Dampier."
"Yes," said the clerk. "Yes, I quite understand. L. for London—"
Gerald lost his temper—"D. for damn!" he shouted, "Dampier."
And then, at last, with a shrill laugh that sounded strange and eerie, the clerk repeated, "Dampier—Mr. John Dampier? Yes, sir. What can we do for you?"
"Mrs. Dampier!"