Page:Stella Dallas, a novel (IA stelladallasnove00prou).pdf/263

Rh and reached for the telephone, supporting it upon his chest as he leaned back again and spoke into it.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Long distance. Green Hills, New York, Mrs. Cornelius Morrison," the operator in the outer office announced.

It was as if a current of electricity passed through Stephen. Though he didn't move a hand or foot, Miss Mills observed his sudden alertness, the sudden tightening of the muscles around his jaw and cheek-bones. Discreetly she turned away.

"Connect me," she heard him say. Then he turned to her. His eyes were like spots of phosphorescence. "We'll finish that later. I'll call you." He nodded toward the outer office. She rose. "Please close the door."

Alone, Stephen leaned forward, placed the telephone on the solid foundation of his desk, drew his chair close to it, jerked himself to the edge of the chair, crouched over the telephone eagerly, cupping his hand over the transmitter.

Helen's voice sounded clear and sweet, as if she were in the very room beside him. He hadn't heard her voice for two years.

"Hello."

"Hello, Helen."

"Is it you, Stephen?"

"It's I. Yes. What is it? Are you all right?"

He caught her little laugh.

"Oh, yes, yes. I'm all right. I called you up to find out if you had an engagement for to-night."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, have you an engagement?"