"They general fall for dearie," said Mr. Smilk, taking down the
receiver.

"Be good enough to remember that you are calling from my apartment,"
said Mr. Yollop severely. "Jiggle it."

Mr. Smilk jiggled it. "I guess she's still mad."

"Jiggle it slowly, tenderly, caressingly. Sort of seductively. Don't
be so savage about it."

"Hello! Central? What number do I have to call to get Spring 3100?
... I'm not trying to be fresh: ... Yes, that's what I want ... I
know the book says to tell you 'I want to call a policeman' but--
... Yes, there's a burglar in my apartment and I want you to--What's
that? ... I don't want to go to bed. ... Say, now YOU'RE gettin'
fresh. You give me police--"

"Tell her I've got you surrounded," whispered Mr. Yollop.

"Hello! Hell--lo! Central!"

"Jiggle it."

"Ah, Mademoiselle! Pardon my--"

Voice at the other end of the wire: "Ring off! You've got wrong
number. This is police headquarters." Audible sound of distant
receiver being slapped upon its hook.