"I'm sure."
"We won't say anything to mother, will we?"
"No, Dad."
"She'd be sick, that's what. Sick. We'll fix him and his business, all right."
"Yes. Talk about Jesse. Talk about Jesse a lot. And make it plain. About Jesse. Then see what he has to say about his business."
The doorbell sounded. Charley was out of his arms and off to her room. Belle came swiftly down the hall and darted into her bedroom for a hasty dab at her flushed face with the powder-pad. Henry opened the door. Ben's voice boomed. Henry's answered with hollow geniality.
"Come in, come in! Here, let me have that. Belle'll be here in a minute."
Belle was there becomingly flushed, cordial. Ben was pressing her hand. "It was mighty nice of you, let me tell you, to call me——"
She was panic-stricken but Henry had not heard, apparently. He had interrupted with a foolish remark of his own.
"It's probably the last time in this place anyway, Ben. We're giving up this flat, you know. End of the month."