“Just hold your tongue, Mimi, a bit; I’ve got to think,” Cis added, and again Mimi obeyed her. “She won’t thank me,” Cis told herself. “Not now, anyway; may later. But it’s not a square deal to keep her in the dark. If she chooses to go on with him, it’s her business, but she ought to have the chance to choose; that’s it! She’s no sort of idea. She’s a little idiot if she marries him, knowing he can’t be trusted when such a girl’s that has set the 10th for the wedding. But that’s her affair. I’ll not deal straight with her if I don’t let her in on what I know. It’ll hit her hard, poor kid, but it might be worse, only she won’t see that now. It will cost me my job. Mimi’s sure to tell Amelia; she’s thick with her. I’ll be giving her my scalp, sure and certain. Well, what of it? What’s my job, beside the whole life of a mighty fine girl? Mimi may hold her tongue--No, she won’t! Well, if it makes me pay, what’s that to do with the rights of it? I’d take it pretty cruel if another girl didn’t stand by me in Miss Lucas’ place. I’m going to do it!” Cicely set her plug in Parkway 58; her hand trembled as she did so. Mimi, watching intently, saw it shake. She was suspicious. To let anyone in on a wire to listen to a conversation was to break one of the fundamental laws of the company. Mimi suspected that Cicely Adair was breaking that law now. “Is this Miss Lucas? Miss Jeanette Lucas?” Cis asked. “Please hold your receiver. I’m connecting you on a wire. It’s something you must hear. Go ahead.” Then Cis dropped her face into her hands and sat quite still, as if she were waiting for the stroke of fate. No stroke fell, however; the call for Boulevard 12 was rung off; Cis noted the excess rate, which was considerable, and notified the public station whence the call had come, of the amount due. She half expected to be called by Jeanette Lucas, impersonally, as “Central,” but no such call came, and when the office clock pointed to ten, Cicely arose, doffed her “bridle,” and turned to Mimi. “See here, Mimi,” she said, “I never did think there was much use in asking a girl for a solemn promise to keep a secret. If you tell her you don’t want something told she won’t tell it, if she’s white; if she’s any other color all the promises this side of Jericho won’t stop her talking. Now, of course you know I did something to-night that’s dead against the rules, but I tell you that it was the only decent thing to do, and whatever happened I knew I had to do it, and I’d do it again this minute, because it _was_ right. I’ve had time to think it over, and I’m surer every instant that I did the square thing. That’s all I can tell you, or anyone, because the rest is none of our business. I don’t want you to tell a living soul what you saw and heard; I ask you not to. And that’s all I can do about it. If you keep your tongue between your teeth I’ll not forget it of you, and I’ll do you a good turn the first chance I get. Signed: Cicely Adair.”