CHAPTER VIIAt half past eleven Mrs. Underwood went down in the lift. She walked to the corner of the road and took a penny bus, after which she went into a call-box and shut the door.
The bell interrupted Miss Silver in the midst of an earnest calculation as to whether her coupons would provide sufficient wool to make her niece Ethel a new blue jumper, and at the same time enable her to knit a couple of pairs of socks for Lisle Jerningham’s baby. She turned with reluctance to the telephone and heard her own name in a high, affected voice.
“Miss Silver?”
“It is Miss Silver speaking. Good morning, Mrs. Underwood.”
A breath was sharply drawn.
“Oh! How did you know who it was?”
Miss Silver coughed.
“It is my business to remember voices. Is anything the matter?”
The voice wavered.
“Why
