Elizabeth took down the words, first in Greek and then in English. They rang in her ears, long after she had transcribed them. The Squire moved up and down in silence, absorbed apparently in the play which he went on reading.
Outside the light was failing. It was close on six o'clock, and summer time had not yet begun.
Suddenly the Squire raised his head.
'That, I think, was the telephone?'
Elizabeth rose—
'May I go? It is probably Captain Dell.'
She hurried away to her office-room, where the call-bell was insistently ringing.
'Yes—who is that?'
'A telegram please—for Mr. Mannering—from London.'
'Wait a moment—I will tell Mr. Mannering.'