“Oh, by all means.” Ember’s tone was most amiable, his departure most courteously prompt.
Jane would have been prepared to bet the eighteen-pence which constituted her sole worldly fortune to a brass farthing that upon the other side of the door his attentive ear would miss no word of her conversation.
She gave Mrs. Cottingham’s number, and waited in some anxiety.
The voice that said “Hullo!” was unmistakably Miss Todhunter’s, and Jane began at once:
“Oh, Daphne, is that you? I want to speak to you so badly. Are you alone? Good! I’m so glad.”
At the other end of the line Daphne was saying grumpily:
“I don’t know what you mean. There are three people in the room. I keep telling you so.”
“Good!” said Jane, with a little more emphasis. “I want to speak to you most particularly. I’ve been awfully unhappy since this afternoon; I really have. And I wanted to say—— I mean to ask you not to be upset about Arnold. It’s all for the best, really. Please, please, don’t think badly of him. It’s not his fault, and I know you’ll like his wife very much indeed. He’ll tell you all about it some day, and you’ll think it ever so romantic. So you won’t be unhappy about it, will you? I hate people to be unhappy.”
Without waiting for Miss Todhunter’s reply, Jane hung up the receiver. After a decent interval she opened the door. Mr. Ember was at the far end of the passage, waiting patiently.