e, call 'Fire Brigade.' No number required.
Speak direct to fire-station. Give address of fire."

"That's useful."

"Rather! You'll have them up under the hour, if they can get the
horses."

"All the same, I don't think we shall come here. You see, I didn't
know it was an asylum."

"It's very cheap," said I. "I can do it at ten guineas a week--without
the inspection-pit, that is."

She leaned forward and laughed. "Oh dear!" she said, "what a thing it
is to be really silly sometimes!"

She got up and smoothed down her dress.

"And now, please, can I be shown over the house?"

"With pleasure," I said, getting up. "That is, unless you'd rather see
The Grange first."

She stared at me for a moment, then she snatched the order out of my
hand. "What's this place?" she demanded.

"White Ladies."

"Are you trying to let it?"

"Well, we haven't thought--"

"And you've let me sit here all this time making a fool of myself, when
you knew perfectly well--"

"Five and three-quarters, was it?"

She stamped her foot.

"Dear pretty Girl Blue, don't be angry."

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

"I know, but I'm so busy just now that it's done for me. My sister is
ashamed of me every evening at eight--fifteen. Matinees on Wednesdays
at two. Could you come one day?"

She laughed in spite of herself. Then:

"And now where is this Grange place?"

"Next but one on the right, but it looks rotten in the evening."

"It's only just five."

"Besides, they had measles there last May--stacks of them."

"Stacks of what?"

"Measles. One of them escaped one day and was brought back by the
village corner-boy. He said he'd have kept it, only he hadn't got a
dog licence."

"But The Grange has got a ghost, hasn't it? And I love ghosts."

"The Grey Lady? My dear, she's gone. Always used to walk the back
stairs on third Fridays, and one night the servants left the lights on.
She gave notice the next day. Wanted a change, I think. You see,
she'd been in one place nearly two hundred years. Besides, the stairs
were bad."

"It's a nice house, isn't it?"

"Pretty well. But it hasn't got a priest's hole."

"What does that matter?"

"Well, where are you going to keep the gorgonzolas?"

She leaned on the back of a chair and began to laugh helplessly.
Presently:

"You wretched man!" she said. "I'm really awfully angry with you."

"I knew it."

"Be quiet. You've wasted my time here until