CHAPTER XIV. The Golden Stair.
Sir William Ware put aside his book, covered a yawn, glanced up at the fireplace clock, which was about to chime nine; then, taking up the telephone which had been ringing with shrill iteration for a moment or two, casually laid his ear to it.
"Yes," he said.
"Sir William Ware?" vibrated the disk.
"Himself," responded Sir William, lightly.
"Well," said the voice at the other end of the line, "this is me."
"Eh?"
"Me."
"Ah." Sir William rubbed his chin in bewilderment; then he added, humorously, "Miss Me? Right, so far?"