"Gracious!" She wrinkled her beautiful brow for a moment, but she had taught school for a while before acquiring wedded affluence and the answer presently came to her. "Why—a common pig, I suppose."
"Gosh. A common pig? Not even a nice, clean, pink-and-white, prize-winning pig?"
"No. What are you talking about?"
"Nothing. Nothing a-tall! Say—what did you think of that Copley woman?"
"Miss Copley? Very interesting. Very attractive. I liked her immensely. Didn't you?"
He thought that over an instant. Then, like Miss Ocky, he surrendered to amusement and gave one of his deep chuckles.
"Yes," he said. "I did. Sometime I'd like to pack a dictionary with me and drop in on her for a chat!"
After Krech had dropped his unwelcome warning and departed, Simon Varr turned to his desk and tried to forget some of his immediate problems by attacking a small mass of correspondence that he had brought home from the office after the innumerable interruptions of the morning. He did not succeed any too well in concentrating his thoughts on the task. They would persist in wandering to other matters, leaving him staring blankly at a letter while his wits went the weary round of his perplexities. With reflection came temper, and he rather welcomed the sound of his study door being opened with no preliminary knock. That foreboded more trouble of some sort, and he was in the humor for a fight— He swung his chair around and started at the sight of his wife in the doorway.
"Well? Come in. What is it?"
She accepted the invitation. She came into the room slowly, but she ignored his gesture toward a chair. She stood looking down at him, her face all the whiter for a touch of vivid color that burned in each cheek, her arms hanging loosely at her sides but her hands clenched in token of restrained emotion. Her voice was calm as ever when she spoke, but passion lent it a husky quality that smote ominously on his ear.