“The dance you were doing outside here just now. It's your own invention, isn't it?”
“Did you see me?” said Fillmore, upset.
“Of course I saw you. I was fascinated.”
“I—er—I was coming to have a talk with you. Sally...”
Fillmore's voice trailed off.
“Well, why didn't you?”
There was a pause—on Fillmore's part, if the timbre of at his voice correctly indicated his feelings, a pause of discomfort. Something was plainly vexing Fillmore's great mind.
“Sally,” he said at last, and coughed hollowly into the receiver.
“Yes.”
“I—that is to say, I have asked Gladys... Gladys will be coming to see you very shortly. Will you be in?”