ce was deepening to cancerous vindictiveness.

As Pennington left with a cheery good-by and a final half-cynical word
of advice "to get onto himself" George mounted the stairs slowly and
came face to face with Genevieve, obviously in wait for him.

"What happened?" she inquired, with an anxious glance at his corrugated
brow.

George did not feel in a mood to describe his retreat, if not defeat.

"Oh, nothing. We had a highball. I think I made him--well--it's all
right."

"There, I knew Betty'd make him see reason," she smiled. "I'm awfully
glad. I've a real respect for Penny's judgment after all, you know."

"Meaning, you have your doubts about mine."

"No, meaning only just what I said--_just_ that. By the way, George, I
wish you'd take time to look into Alys' real estate. Somebody ought to,
and if you're really representing her----"

"Oh, good heavens!" he exclaimed impatiently, angered by her swift
transition from his own to another's affairs. "I can't! I simply can't!
Haven't you any conception of how busy I am?"

"I know, dear; I _do_ know. But something must be done. The Health
Department," she explained, "has sent in complaint after complaint,
and Miss Eliot simply won't handle the property unless she's allowed to
spend a lot setting things to rights. Alys says it's absurd; none of the
other property owners out there are doing anything, and _she_ won't. So,
nobody's looking after it, and somebody should."

"Who told you all this?" he demanded. "Miss E. Eliot, I suppose."

His wife nodded. "And she's right," she added.

"Well, perhaps she is," he allowed. "I'll get Alien to act as her agent
again. He's in with all the politicians; he ought to be able to stall
off the department."

The words slipped out before he realized their import, but at
Genevieve's wide stare of amazement he flushed crimson. "I mean--lots of
these complaints are really mere red tape; some self-important employee
is trying to look busy. A little investigation usually puts that
straight."

"Of course," she acquiesced, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "That
happens, too, but Miss Eliot says that the conditions out there are
really dreadful."

"I'll talk to Allen," said George with an affectation of easy dismissal
of the subject.

But Genevieve's mind appeared to have grown suddenly persistent.
At dinner she again brought up the subject, this time directing her
troubled gaze and troubling words at her guest.

"Alys," she sa