"No," I answered, "I am not the War Office."
"Aren't you the War Off--"
But I clapped on my receiver. In fact I clapped it on so violently
that I thought I had silenced the thing for good and all.
A series of tugging ineffective clicks on the part of my bell decided
me to investigate. This move on my part was to win me the game.
I took off my receiver and listened. No answer. I banged the rigging.
No answer. I banged and thumped.
"Yes, yes," she said rather peevishly, "I am attending to you as
quickly as I can. What number do you want?"
"Well," I explained, "as a matter of fact I don't want a number.
I only wondered if my line was all right. Sorry you have been
terroubled," and I cut her off. One--all.
* * * * *
The third and last game started briskly. In the course of the first
ten minutes I was rung up and asked if I was--