"I want to help, may I?" There was a pause. Something hung in the balance. And then Gregory said dully:
"Be sure to choose the right one."
"We will. Mary is good at that kind of thing."
The waiter brushed off the crumbs and brought the coffee. When they began talking again the mood had changed. Gregory told Jean of a competition to build a Peoples' Auditorium in Chicago. It was open to the architects of America, and he had played with the idea through the hot, lonely nights of the past month.
"Whenever the pergola got too much, I took a swat at this."
"Well?"
Gregory shrugged. "It was good fun. It saved Palmer's life more often than he knew."
"When can I see them?"
Gregory ground the ash of his cigarette into the cloth as he answered:
"They're in the waste-basket. I was afraid to keep them around, like a drunkard with a bottle of whiskey."