“I ain’t in.”

The obliging voice again, dutifully repeating the message: “He ain’t in� . Well, it’s hard to say. He might be in in a couple hours andthen again he might not be back till late. I guess he’s went to Hammond on a job — — ” (Warming to his task now.) “Say, won’t I do?� Who’s fresh! Aw, say, lady!”

You’d think, after repeated rebuffs of this sort, she could not possibly be so lacking in decent pride as to leave her name for Smitty or Mike or Elmer to bandy about. But she invariably did, baffled by Nick’s elusiveness. She was likely to be any one of a number. Miss Bauers phoned: Will you tell him, please? (A nasal voice, and haughty, with the hauteur that seeks to conceal secret fright.)