Maggie's sharpness was forgotten.

It was, I think, when she was about to go that I asked her about
the telephone.

"Telephone?" she inquired. "Why, no. It has always done very well.
Of course, after a heavy snow in the winter, sometimes--"

She had a fashion of leaving her sentences unfinished. They trailed
off, without any abrupt break.

"It rings at night."

"Rings?"

"I am called frequently and when I get to the phone, there is no
one there."

Some of my irritation doubtless got into my voice, for Miss Emily
suddenly drew away and stared at me.

"But--that is very strange. I--"

She had gone pale. I saw that now. And quite suddenly she dropped
her knitting-bag. When I restored it to her, she was very calm and
poised, but her color had not come back.

"It has always been very satisfactory," she said. "I don't know
that it ever--"