Part 73 (1/2)
”I've reason to be. If a man had written what you have I should punch his head.”
”Say that again!”
”I say, if a stranger of the kickable s.e.x had told such a pack of infernal----”
_Click!_
Lady Hannah hung up the receiver, blew a contemptuous kiss into the gape of the celluloid mouthpiece, and turned to go. There was another ring-up as she reached the door.
”Hallo. Are you the Convalescent Hospital?”
”Yes. Who are you?”
”Staff Bombproof South. I want to speak to Lady Hannah Wrynche.”
”I'm here, Lord Beauvayse.”
”I say, I'm going to rag you frightfully. Why on earth have you given us away in that beastly paper?”
”Whom do you mean by 'us'?”
”Well, me and Miss Mildare.”
”Didn't you tell me on Sunday that you were engaged?” she demanded indignantly.
”I did.” The answer came back haltingly.
”And that you didn't care who knew it?”
”Fact.”
”And that you two were going to be married as soon as you could pull off the event?”
”Yes.” The voice was palpably embarra.s.sed. ”But----”
”Well?”
”But--things you don't mind people knowing look beastly in cold print.”
”If I were in your shoes I should think they looked beautiful.”
Nothing but a faint buzz came back. Lady Hannah went on:
”If I were in your shoes, and such a pearl and prize and paragon as Lynette Mildare had consented to marry me, I should want the whole world to envy me my colossal good luck. I should go about in sandwich-boards advertising it. I should buy a megaphone, and proclaim it through that. I should----”
There was no response beyond the buzzing of the wire. Beauvayse had evidently hung up the receiver.
”Is there any creature upon earth more cowardly than a man engaged?” Lady Hannah demanded of s.p.a.ce. There was a futile struggle inside the telephone-box. Somebody else was trying to ring up. She put the receiver back upon the crutches, and--
”_Ting--ting--ting!_” said the bell in a high, thin voice.