Taking up the receiver, she said in a grumpy tone, "Ach! What is it? Yes?" And then her face cleared, and she even smiled into the telephone receiver. To her great surprise--but the things that had happened to-day were so extraordinary that there was no real reason why she should be surprised at anything now--she had heard the voice of the one German in Witanbury--and there were a good many Germans in Witanbury--with whom she was on really friendly terms. This was a certain Fritz Froehling, a pleasant elderly man who, like herself, had been in England a long time--in fact in his case nearer forty than twenty years. He was a barber and hairdresser, and did a very flourishing business with the military gentlemen of the garrison. So Anglicised had he and his wife become that their son was in the British Army, where he had got on very well, and had been promoted to sergeant. Even among themselves, when Anna spent an evening with them, the Froehlings generally talked English. Still, Froehling was a German of the good old sort; that is, he had never become naturalised. But he was a Socialist; he did not share Anna's enthusiasm for the Kaiser, the Kaiserine, and their stalwart sons. This was the first time he had ever telephoned to her. "Is it Frau Bauer that I am addressing?" And Anna, slightly thrilled by the unusual appellation, answered, "Yes, yes--it is, Herr Froehling." "With you a talk I should like to have," said the friendly familiar voice. "Could I this afternoon you see?" "Not this afternoon," answered Anna, "but this evening, I think yes. My mistress will I ask if I an evening free have can." "Is it necessary her to ask?" The question was put doubtfully. "Yes, yes! But mind she will not. To me she is goodness itself--never more good than this morning she was," shouted back Anna loyally. "Fortunate you are," the voice became rather sharp and dry. "I notice already have to quit--told I must skip." "Never!" cried Anna indignantly. "Who has that you told?" "The police." "A bad business," wailed Anna. She was shocked at what her old acquaintance told her. "I will Mrs. Otway ask you to help," she shouted back. He muttered a word or two and then, "Unless before eight you communicate, Jane and I expect you this evening." "Certainly, Herr Froehling." CHAPTER IV As Mrs. Otway left the cathedral, certain remarks made to her by members of the little congregation jarred on her, and made her feel, almost for the first time in her life, thoroughly out of touch with her friends and neighbours.