“Did he? Why, as soon as he heard we were dickering with new people, he had half a dozen of his best men camping on our trail, cutting prices. That’s the game—play one concern against the other.”
“Thank you, dear,” murmured Mrs. Larry, with a far-away look in her eye.
Mr. Larry caught the pink-tipped finger as it slipped from the mooring in his buttonhole.
“What’s up, sweetheart? Been hearing a lecture on ‘Every Wife Her Husband’s Partner’? Going into business?”
“That’s just it, Larry, I am your partner, and I ought to make a business of it.”
Mr. Larry drew her close, looking a trifle anxious.
“I don’t want you any different. I love you just as you are.”
“Yes, but you might love me better——”
“I couldn’t.”
“Yes, you could—if I were a better manager. Larry, we eat too much. I mean, I don’t market efficiently.”