_Me_ (_squeaky_). Hullo!
_A Voice_ (_business-like, in a great hurry_). Hullo! Is that you,
Mortimer?
_Me_ (_very deliberate_). Mr. Mortimer is in the next room. If you will
hold the line I will fetch him. Who is it speaking, please?
_A V._ Oh, never mind that.
_Me_ (_firm_). Who is it speaking, please?
_A V. Oh_, da----! Say it’s George. And be quick, please.
_Me_ (_after a good deal of unavoidable delay_). Hullo, George!
_A V._ Hullo, Mortimer! You _have_ been a time! Look here--about this
meeting: have you got your minutes ready yet?
_Me._ Not quite. Practically. I was just doing them----
_A V._ Oh! Well, it’s like this: I’ve had a talk with Sir Donald and
he thinks you’d better leave out that scene about Atkins and the
Debentures. He thinks we might have trouble with the Manchester lot if
you read that out, but if you don’t say anything about it they’ll never
know----
_Me._ You dirty dog!
_A V._ What’s that?
_Me_ (_innocent_). I didn’t say anything. I think there’s someone on
the line--(_in a brand-new voice_) Cuckoo!
_A V._ (_indignant_). I say, Sir, do you mind getting off the line?
Hullo! Hullo!... He’s gone now. Well, don’t forget that. So long, old
man. Sorry you couldn’t come round the other night; I wanted you to
meet my _fiancée_--you haven’t, have you?
_Me._ Which one.
_A V._ (_skittishly_). You old ass--Miss Tickle, of course.
_Me.._ Oh, I know _her_. As a matter of fact I was engaged to her
myself once--but that’s many years ago.
_A V._ What’s that? You sound as if you’d got a cold.
_Me._ I rather think I have. You always make such a draught down the
telephone. Good-bye, old man.