I disliked the man’s voice even before I took in the sense of what he was saying; a slow voice that seemed to dwell with pleasure on its own malice. He said over the wire:
“Is Madame Storey there?”
“Who is this speaking?”
He laughed sarcastically. “Oh, I haven’t the pleasure of her acquaintance.”
“What do you want to speak to her about?”
“That I can only tell her.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” I said, “but I am instructed not to disturb her unless I know it is for a good reason.”
“To whom am I speaking?” he asked.
“Miss Brickley, Madame Storey’s secretary.”
“I have heard of the admirable Miss Brickley,” he said with his insulting laugh. “I feel quite safe in sending her my message by you.”
Then he paused, and I said: “Well?”
I could hear his breathing over the wire. He must have had his l
