After an eternal minute, he was answered in Annette's own deep, thrilling contralto:
"Hello!"
He paused, controlled his voice, and plunged in:
"Miss Markham, this is Dr. Blake. Please don't go away from the telephone. You owe it to me to listen—"
"I shall listen—"
"Very well. You will remember that I have respected your wishes about keeping away from you. I do not want to make you any trouble. But something has happened in which you are concerned, and which makes it imperative that I should speak to you face to face for five minutes—"
"Something important?" he heard her voice tremble. He remembered then that cheated and humiliated lovers had been known to shoot women; he had raised his voice; perhaps, what with her bad conscience, she was thinking of that.
"Understand me," he added, speaking lower. "I shall be kind. I shall do nothing violent nor disagreeable. I want five minutes, at your house, in the Park—anywhere. Though I would prefer to see you alone, I would consent to the presence of your aunt. But you must see me!"
"I must see you," she repeated—musingly he thought—"Aunt Paula is away."
"Could you come at once to that Eighty-sixth Street entrance of the Park?"