“Gentleman wants to speak to you, madam. Gives no name.” “Any remarks?” “He has a very pleasant voice, madam.” Shelmerdene went to the telephone. She sat on the edge of the bed. “Hallo, hallo!” said the voice. “Just a moment,” said Shelmerdene. Her dressing-gown had slipped off her knee and her knee was cold, so she re-arranged the dressing-gown over her knee. SHELMERDENE: Now! THE VOICE: At last, Shelmerdene! How are you, dear? SHELMERDENE: I am very well, thank you. May I know to whom I am giving this information? THE VOICE: _Shelmerdene!_ Do you really mean to say that you don’t recognise my voice? SHELMERDENE: I am sorry. I do hate to hurt people. And you have a very nice voice, too! THE VOICE: Thank you, Shelmerdene. (_Bitterly_) Well, as you don’t recognise my voice I had better go away. Are you sure you don’t, my dear? SHELMERDENE: Well, you know, the profusion of endearing epithets in your conversation leads me to conclude that you are either a friend or a person of colossal cheek. But now I come to think of it, I have a vague idea about you. You have the voice of a man I dined with once. THE VOICE: Ah, yes! You dined with me once--upon a time. SHELMERDENE: Oh, _la, la_! I said _once_, my friend. THE VOICE: You were never a great mathematician, Shelmerdene. But what does it matter how often we dined, so long as we did dine? And ever since then I have remembered you, for there are very few beautiful women, even in one’s dreams. Therefore I have rung you up, after all these years. SHELMERDENE: Thank you, stranger. You speak very prettily. Are you trying to pretend that you were in love with me at that distant time? THE VOICE: I think I am in love with you now. SHELMERDENE: You _think_! You are not very dexterous, sir.... THE VOICE: You are sitting on the edge of the bed now. Please, no ceremony with me, Shelmerdene! Lie down on the bed, dear--you wil be more comfortable so, on that virginal bed! SHELMERDENE: Irony, my friend, does not become the moment. It is a vulgarity peculiar to cultured men. It is a knack, and I don’t like knacks. Shall I ring off? THE VOICE: No, no! Please! SHELMERDENE: Well, a moment. (_To Foster_) Leave us, Foster. THE VOICE: Shelmerdene, you are very hard! SHELMERDENE: No, I am very tired ... of hardness. You understand? THE VOICE: I want to hear about your life, Shelmerdene. I have not seen you for so long! Do things still happen to you, and do you still let them happen? SHELMERDENE: How bitter you are, aren’t you, in a hidden sort of way! THE VOICE: Do things still happen to you, Shelmerdene? SHELMERDENE: No. THE VOICE: So abrupt! SHELMERDENE: I was thinking of your voice. I like it, but it’s bitter. THE VOICE: I have drunk vinegar. SHELMERDENE: But I thought they called it gin-and-bitters in the navy! THE VOICE: Have it your own way, Shelmerdene. But you have still told me nothing of yourself.