"Don't you think I ought to come to you every afternoon?"
"If you can arrange it," he almost snapped back at her.
She did arrange it, how he took no pains to inquire, and a little later she said again:
"You ought to have some one here all day. I guess you will have to look for another stenographer."
He remembered how menacingly he had darted at her. She was dressed for the street, on her way home, and she had halted at the door.
"Do you want to desert the work that you've inspired?" he demanded.
"Inspired?... By me?" Her voice took on a note of triumph.
"You didn't fancy that I inspired it, did you?" he sneered at her.
His vehemence confused her. "I hadn't thought.... Really, you know.... Well, as you say.... But, of course, it is absurd when you can get any number of girls to...."
"But suppose I want you?" he demanded of her for a second time.