Then, running like a child let out of school, she fled down the long hall to the telephone stand.

Lifting the receiver, her fingers fairly danced upon the forked clip which had held it.
Her imperative summons was answered with a most unusual promptness by the exchange--it was going to be a lucky day altogether, she told herself.

Demanding, "Trunks, please!" she gave the number of the Edenhall flat and prepared to possess her soul in patience till her call came through.
At lunch she was almost too excited to eat, and when finally Morton, entering quietly, announced: "You are wanted on the telephone, miss," she hardly waited to hear the end of the sentence but flew past him to the telephone stand and snatched up the instrument.
"Hello! Hello! That you, Penny?
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