Nancy doesn't finish her breakfast as neatly as Mrs. Winters would have
wished. She goes into the next room to telephone.
"Business, dear?" says Mrs. Winters brightly from the midst of a last piece
of toast and "Yes--something Mother wants me to do" from Nancy, unfairly.
Then she gives the number--it is still the same number she and Oliver used
when they used to talk after he had caught the last train back to Melgrove
and both by all principles that make for the Life Efficient should have
gone to bed--though to Nancy's mind that seems a great while ago. "Can I
speak to Mrs. Crowe, please?" The explaining can be as awful as it likes,
Nancy doesn't care any more. An agitated rustle comes to her ears--that
must be Mrs. Winters listening.
"Mrs. Crowe? This--is--Nancy--Ellicott."
She says it very loudly and distinctly and for Mrs. Winters to hear.
XLVII
Oliver wakes around one o'clock with a dim consciousness that noisy crowds
of people have been talking very loudly at him a good many too many times
during the past few hours, but that he has managed to fool them, many or
few, by always acting as much like a Body as possible.
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