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Updated: June 10, 2025
As we crossed the hall the telephone-bell rang, and we were the involuntary auditors of Professor Challenger's end of the ensuing dialogue. I say "we," but no one within a hundred yards could have failed to hear the booming of that monstrous voice, which reverberated through the house. His answers lingered in my mind.
What Uncle Elbert wanted with such a child, he could not conceive; but since he did want her, have her he should. Tilting back his office chair and running his hand through his hair, Varney longed to spank her. This thought came to him, definitely and for about the seventh time, at half-past one o'clock on the third day, Monday. At the same moment, his telephone-bell rang sharply.
Surely it was too goodly a residence that we should be so swiftly, so ruthlessly, evicted from it! But I have said that the telephone-bell had rung once more. Suddenly I heard Challenger's tremendous voice from the hall. "Malone!" he cried. "You are wanted." I rushed down to the instrument. It was McArdle speaking from London. "That you, Mr. Malone?" cried his familiar voice. "Mr.
Once you get your money on the run, it parts as if it enjoyed doing it. I had just got off to sleep that night when my telephone-bell rang. It was Bobbie, of course. He didn't apologize. "Reggie," he said, "I've got it now for certain. It's just come to me. We saw those Terpsichorean Cats at a matinee, old man." "Yes?" I said. "Well, don't you see that that brings it down to two days?
The ring of the telephone-bell cut occasionally into the deep hum of many voices. All was confusion, keen interest, expectancy. For it was known that Simon Harley had sent for $300,000 in cold cash to secure the election of his candidate, Roger D. Warner, a lawyer who had all his life been close to corporate interests.
If Fillmore had taken the trouble to come in a taxi-cab, obviously to call upon her, why had he abandoned the idea at her very threshold? She was still speculating on this mystery when the telephone-bell rang, and her brother's voice spoke huskily in her ear. "Sally?" "Hullo, Fill. What are you going to call it?" "What am I... Call what?" "The dance you were doing outside here just now.
Singularly enough, the sharp call of the telephone-bell still echoed in her ear, and her body and mind were in a state of tension, as if, at any moment, she might hear another summons of greater interest to her than the whole of the nineteenth century.
She is home again, and I'm going to ask to be forgiven!" Then the telephone-bell called. He lifted her gently off his knee and stood up. "As to the lad who is here with his father! Gossip is playing all sorts of capers this day, wee mither! And do not be worried if gossip of another sort comes to you after I'm gone this evening. There may be matters in the city for me to attend to as mayor.
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