Brainard entered. It seemed ridiculous for him to talk to himself.
"If the microphone works," he said at length, "rap on the desk twice." Then he added, half laughing to himself, "If it doesn't, rap once—Constance."
A single rap came in answer.
"If you couldn't hear," he smiled entering her office, "why did you rap once!"
"It didn't work smoothly on that last word."
"What—Constance?"
He thought there was a subtle change in their relations since the microphone incident. At any rate she was not angry. Were they not partners?
"I think it will be better if I turn that microphone around," she remarked. "I placed it face downwards. Let me change it."
Again he helped her as she jumped up on the board room table. This time his hand lingered a little longer in hers and she did not withdraw it so soon. When she did there was a quick twinkle in her eyes as she straightened the microphone and offered her hand to him again.
"Jump!" he said, as if daring her.