He had felt a sense of fatality bound up in these words of defiant pretense, once they had escaped him…a fatality which the blazing contempt of his wife's retort had emphasized. Even now his cheeks burned with the memory of that unleashed insult:
"What can you do?"
No, there was no turning back now. His own self-esteem could not deny so clear-cut a challenge.
He called his assistant. "I wish you'd go into the private office and see if Mr. Ford is at leisure," he ordered. "I want to have a talk with him."
The youth came back promptly. "He says for you to come," was his brief announcement.
Fred Starratt stared a moment and, recovering himself, walked swiftly in upon his employer. Mr. Ford was signing insurance policies.
"Well, Starratt," he said, looking up smilingly, "what's the good word?… What's new with you?"
Starratt squared himself desperately. "Nothing…except I find it impossible to live upon my salary."
Mr. Ford laid aside his pen. "Oh, that's unfortunate!… Suppose you sit down and we'll talk it over."
Starratt dropped into the nearest seat.