“And your brother’s address?”
Unhesitatingly she gave it; then added: “The phone’s in here.” She pointed to a writing-table at the far end of the room.
As he turned to go to it, she clutched again at his arm. “Damn it!” thought Anthony. “I wish she wouldn’t keep doing that. So disturbing!” But he smiled down at her.
“Isn’t it dangerous to use the telephone?” she whispered. “Isn’t it? The girls at the exchange—if you use his name——”
“Credit me with guile,” smiled Anthony.
He crossed the room, sat by the table and pulled the instrument towards him. She stood beside him, her fingers gripping the back of his chair. He lifted the receiver and asked for a city number.
“Is it a trunk-call?” he added. “No? Good!”
To Lucia, her heart in her mouth, it seemed hours before he spoke again. Then—
“Hallo. That The Owl office?” he said. “It is? Well, put me on to Mr. Hastings, please. At once. You can’t? My child, if I’m not put through at once you’ll go to-morrow! Understand?” A pause. To Lucia it seemed that the heavy thudding of her heart must be filling the room with sound. She pressed a hand to her breast.
Then Anthony’s voice again. “Ah, that you, Spencer? Oh, it’s the unerring Miss Warren, is it? Yes, Gethryn speaking. He is, is he? When’ll he be back? Or won’t he? Oh, you’re all always there until after midnight, are you? Well, when he comes in, will you please tell him—this is important—that I’ve run across some one who knows where our old friend Masterson, Jimmy Masterson, is. Hastings will want to see him at once, I know. He and I have been trying to find Masterson for years. And say that I want to find out what Jimmy was doing last night. Tell Hastings to ask him or find out somehow where he was. It’s a great joke.