It was her husband's voice that came to her.
"Billy, for heaven's sake, take pity on me.

Won't you put on your duds and come and engage your maid yourself ?" "Why, Bertram, what's the matter ?" "Matter?
Holy smoke! Well, I've been to three of those intelligence offices--though why they call them that I can't imagine.

If ever there was a place utterly devoid of intelligence-but never mind! I've interviewed four fat ladies, two thin ones, and one medium with a wart.
I've cheerfully divulged all our family secrets, promised every other half-hour out, and taken oath that our household numbers three adult members, and no more; but I simply _can't_ remember how many handkerchiefs we have in the wash each week.

Billy, will you come?
Maybe you can do something with them.

I'm sure you can!" "Why, of course I'll come," chirped Billy.