Chapter II: 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.

III

_A Voice._ Is that the Box-Office?

_Me._ Which Box-Office?

_A V._ Is that the Paragon Theatre?

_Me_. Yes, Madam.

_A V._ Oh, have you two seats for next Thursday?

_Me._ Yes, Madam. There is a stall in row D, and I have one seat left in the back row in the dress-circle--a _very_ good view of the stage, Madam.

_A V._ Oh, but I want them _together_.

_Me._ I’m afraid we never sell seats _together_, Madam. The Lord Chamberlain----

_A V._ Oh, but----

_Me._ May I ask why you want to see this play, Madam?

_A V._ I can’t hear you.... Hullo!

_Me._ I mean, between ourselves, it’s a thoroughly bad adaptation of a thoroughly bad foreign play thoroughly badly acted by a rotten lot of actors. _Letty Loo_ is perfectly awful, and there’s no room for your legs, unless you would care for a box, and there isn’t one if you would; so if I were you I should stay quietly at home with Henry. _Au revoir!_