Her acting annoyed him. He turned
toward Hilmer with an indifferent comment on the weather and the talk
veered to inconsequential subjects. Helen continued her scrutiny of
the forms.

Finally Hilmer rose to go. Helen made no move to return the memoranda.
Fred cleared his throat and even coughed significantly, but Helen was
oblivious. Presently Starratt went up to his wife and said,
deliberately:

"Hilmer is going ... you better give him back his papers."

She turned a glance of startled innocence upon them both. "Oh!" she
exclaimed, petulantly. "How disappointing...and just as I was becoming
interested... Why don't you men go have your usual drink? I'll be
through with them then."

Hilmer gave a silent assent and Fred followed him. There didn't seem
to be anything else to do. On the way out they met Hilmer's office boy
in the corridor. Hilmer was wanted on a matter of importance at the
office. He waved a brief farewell to Fred and left.

Fred went back to his wife. She had abandoned the forms and was
lolling in her chair, sucking at an orange.

"Hilmer's been called suddenly to his office on business," he said,
brusquely. She turned and faced him. "You'd better put those papers in
the safe. I'll take them back myself to-morrow. I can't see what
possessed you to insist on looking them over, anyway."

She squeezed the orange in her hand. "Well, when we get ready to
handle the business I want to know something about it."

He stared. "Handle the business? You heard what I said, didn't you?"

"Yes, I heard," she said, wearily, and she went on with her orange.

He did not say anything further, but the next morning a telephone
message put to rout his resolve to return Hilmer's insurance forms in
person.

"I've got to go up Market Street to see a man about some workmen's
compensation," he explained to Helen. "You'd better put on your hat
and take those things to Hilmer yourself."

She did not answer...

He returned at three o'clock. Helen was very busy pounding away at the
typewriter.

"Well, what's all the rush?" he asked.

"I'm getting out the forms on Hilmer's shipping plant," she returned,
nonchalantly.

"What do you mean?... Didn't you..."

"No ... he's decided to let us handle the business."

"Why ... on what grounds?"

She waved a bit of carbon paper in the air. "How should I know? I
didn't ask him!"

Her contemptuous indifference irritated him. "You ought to have waited
until I got back... Y