"Mrs. Heath wishes to speak with you," she announced formally. "Slip on your bathrobe and come."
Heath took the receiver from her hand.
"Joan? This certainly is good of you, dear. Yes, I am much better, thank you. Bless your precious heart, you needn't have worried. Currier will be back late tonight or early tomorrow morning and he will tell you how well I am progressing. Yes, he has the jewels. Put them in the safe right away, won't you?
"I can't say when I shall be home. Something has come up that may keep me here some time. I cannot explain just now. It is the thing you have always predicted would happen to me sometime. Well, it has happened. Do you get that? Yes, I am caught—hard and fast. It is a bit ironic to have traveled all over the world and then be taken captive in a small Cape Cod village. I guess I believe in Fate, destiny—whatever you call it.
"I'm in something of a tangle just at present. I may even have to call on you to help me straighten it out. That's sweet of you, dear. You've never failed me. Oh, I can talk—it doesn't hurt me. You mustn't mind my croak. I'm not so badly off as I sound. I'll let you know the first minute I have anything definite to tell.
"Goodbye, dear. Take care of yourself. It's done me a world of good to hear your voice."
Heath returned the receiver to its hook and in high spirits strode back into his room.
If, however, he hoped there to take up the threads of the conversation so unexpectedly broken off, he was disappointed.
Marcia's chair was empty.