I'll fix it some way.

Good-by!" "But, Billy, Billy! Oh, my grief and conscience," fluttered Aunt Hannah's voice across the wires as Billy snapped the receiver into place.
For the second time that day Billy backed palpitatingly against the wall.

Her eyes sought the clock fearfully.
Fifteen minutes past four.

She had an hour and three quarters.

She could, of course, telephone Bertram to dine Calderwell at a club or some hotel.