"Eleven thirty-five."

"Eleven thirty-five? Why, it's on now. I don't hear anything on the
Front?"

"No, you wouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because it's all quiet."

"But you said s-something was on?"

"No, I didn't. You asked me what time it was and I told you."

Swallowing hard several times, Possum girded up his loins, so to
speak, gripped the telephone firmly in the right hand this time, and
jumped off again. His "Hullo" sent a thrill through even the Bosch
listening apparatus in the next sector.

"Hullo! L-look here, Pike, we--want--to--know--what time _it_ is."

"Eleven thir--"

"No, no, _it_--_it_"

"What?"

"It! You _know_ what I mean. Damit, what can I call it? Oh--er,