P. G. Wodehouse

“ Where are you? I must see you. Where can we meet? I want to see you! For Heaven's sake, tell me where you are. I want to see you! Where are you? Where are you?"
"I'm downstairs."
"Where? Here at the 'Carlton'?"
"Here at the 'Carlton'!"
"Alone?"
"Quite alone."
"You won't be long!" said George.
He hung up the receiver, and bounded across the room to where his coat hung over the back of a chair. The edge of the steamer-trunk caught his shin.
"Well," said George to the steamer-trunk, "and what are you butting in for? Who wants you, I should like to know!" ”

“ Now, with the steamer-trunk before him gaping to receive its contents, he gave himself up whole-heartedly to gloom.
Somehow the steamer-trunk, with all that it implied of partings and voyagings, seemed to emphasize the fact that he was going out alone into an empty world. Soon he would be on board the liner, every revolution of whose engines would be taking him farther away from where his heart would always be. There were moments when the torment of this realization became almost physical. ”

“ It seemed familiar, but all female voices sound the same over the telephone.
"This is George," he replied. "Who are you?"
"Don't you know my voice?"
"I do not."
"You'll know it quite well before long. I'm a great talker."
"Is that Billie?"
"It is not Billie, whoever Billie may be. I am female, George."
"So is Billie."
"Well, you had better run through the list of your feminine friends till you reach me."
"I haven't any feminine friends." ”