"Mrs. Dampier? Yes, sir. I'll fetch Mr. Stephens." The clerk's voice had altered; it had become respectful, politely enquiring.
And at last with intense relief, Gerald Burton heard a low clear, incisive voice uttering the words: "Is that Mrs. Dampier herself speaking?"
Instinctively Gerald's own voice lowered. "No, I am speaking for Mrs.
Dampier."
The English lawyer's voice hardened, or so it seemed to the young American. It became many degrees colder. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Dampier. Yes? What can I do for you?"
And as Gerald, taken oddly aback by the unseen man's very natural mistake, did not answer for a moment or two:
"Nothing wrong with Nancy, I hope?"
The anxious question sounded very, very clear.
"There is something very wrong with Mrs. Dampier—can you hear me clearly?"
"Yes, yes What is wrong with her?"
"Mrs. Dampier is in great trouble. Mr. Dampier has disappeared."