ermined look in his eyes, she knew that his week of
waiting was over; that he meant to speak to her before she left the hall.
It was all in the moment's silence that followed his remark; then he went
on, as easily as if he were talking to a gang on the marine tower--but the
time was long enough for Hilda to feel her brief courage slipping away.
She could not look at him now.

"Take a look at that door, James," he was saying. "I guess you'll have to
tend to business if you want any dinner."

They all turned and saw the grinning heads of some of the carpenters
peering into the room. There was the shuffling of many feet behind them on
the stairs, and the sound of cat calls and whistling. A shove was passed
on from somewhere back in the hallway, and one of the carpenters came
sprawling through the door. The others yelled good-naturedly.

"I'll fix 'em," said James, with a laugh, starting toward them.

"Give him a lift, Pete," said Bannon. "He'll need it. You two'd better
keep the stairs clear for a while, or they'll stampede us."

So Pete followed, and for a few moments the uproar from the stairs drowned
all attempts at conversation. Only Max was left with them now. He stood
back by the wall, still looking helplessly from one to the other. The
restaurant men were bustling about the floor; and Hilda was glad they were
there, for she knew that Bannon meant to send Max away, too. She was too
nervous to stand still; and she walked around the table, resetting the
knives and forks and spoons. The paper napkins on this table were the only
ones in the room. She wondered at this, and when the noise of the men had
died away into a few jeering cries from the street, and Max had gone to
get the flags (for she had said that they should be hung at this end of
the room), and the waiters were bustling about, it gave her a chance to
break the silence.

"Aren't the other"--she had to stop to clear her throat--"aren't the other
men going to have napkins?"

"They wouldn't know what they were for."

His easy tone gave her a momentary sense of relief.

"They'd tie them on their hats, or make balls to throw around." He paused,
but added: "It wouldn't look bad, though, would it?--to stand them up this
way on all the tables."

She made no reply.

"What do you say?" He was looking at her. "Shall we do it?"

She nodded, and then dropped her eyes, angry with herself that she could
not overcome her nervousness. There was another silence, a