"Eleven thirty-five? Why, it's on now. I don't hear anything on the Front?"
"No, you wouldn't."
"Why not?"
"Because it's all quiet."
"But you said s-something was on?"
"No, I didn't. You asked me what time it was and I told you."
Swallowing hard several times, Possum girded up his loins, so to speak, gripped the telephone firmly in the right hand this time, and jumped off again. His "Hullo" sent a thrill through even the Bosch listening apparatus in the next sector.
"Hullo! L-look here, Pike, we—want—to—know—what time it is."
"Eleven thir—"
"No, no, it—it"