"You may see Hollis; it's his spring holiday," his wife observed without inflection.
"I saw he was back. I don't mind, if he doesn't.... Sure you don't want to come? For dinner, or afterwards for a few minutes?"
"Dances are so boring, Pell."
"Once in a while I like 'em."
"I'll go next week, if you go then.... Don't make a scene with Hollis."
He jerked with needless viciousness at his belt. "Why make such an assumption? I'm not going to make a scene."
Her pen scratched raspingly over the businesslike letter-heads of the State Suffrage Association. "You almost had a fight with John Birrell, at the bowling tournament."
"You exaggerate everything, Jane. There was nothing like it——"
"You told me——"
"I told you, very plainly, that there would have been a fight, if we hadn't held in our tempers. He's a decent fellow; he's still sore about my mining report. The State is again investigating them."