“I’ll enquiah, suh. Please to hold the wiah.”
He could hear her fat feet clattering away along the corridor. An endless, endless wait, almost a quarter of a minute. Steps again on the tiled corridor,—not Hattie’s; then the composed voice of Eris:
“Mr. Annan?”
“Yes.... Do you—are you quite all right?” he faltered.
“Quite, thank you. Are you?”
“Yes, I’m fine.... I’m so glad you’re all right.... Do you mind my calling up?”
“I hoped you would,” she replied calmly.
“D-did you?—really?” he stammered, unable to believe his ears.
“Naturally. I’ve wondered whether you have been too busy to call me. Have you?”
“Not exactly—busy. Do you—suppose I—I could see you, Eris?”