"Don't mind me at all." "Well, he wants to talk to you," she said.

She put her lips again to the mouthpiece and added a postscript.

"Pardon me, but I held the line a minute while I quarreled with your fireman.

You're wrong--I don't find him so nice to talk to.

You may talk to him if you want to--I'm sure you're welcome!" Whereupon she surrendered the receiver and walked around the high, map-covered table, and amused herself by playing an imaginary game of billiards with the pointer for a cue and two little spruce cones which she took from her pocket for balls.
When Jack had finished talking and had hung up the receiver, he leaned back against the shelf and watched her, his hands thrust deep into his trousers pockets.