'The reason you are thinking of, Mrs. Max, is not for a poor man.'
Mrs. Maxineff lifted her shoulders and displayed her palms in a manner that marked her nationality.
'So! Science has made your dark skin white; love for this business of killing men has kept you hid a week.'
'Of saving men,' Maxineff corrected, while his wife smiled as at the recurrence of a customary witticism.
'And you gave the orders, Max! You are to be blamed for this display of energy.'
'Don't scold, dear. It will be a wonderful thing!'
'A new explosive?' she interrupted.
'Do you remember the day we motored from Stoneham? I first thought of it then. I have been too busy to work on it, so I turned the idea over to Noakes.'
'And I have made application to a home for the feeble-minded, Mrs. Max,' Noakes said. 'Mr. Max will never commission me again.'
'I'll be with you to-morrow, and we shall see wherein is the difficulty.'