"I've invited George Tompkins over."
"Oh, gosh!" he exclaimed. "Well, I'm sorry, honey, but you'll have to phone him not to come."
"He's left," she said. "He's coming straight from town. He'll be here any minute now."
Roger groaned. It occurred to him to send them both to the movies, but somehow the suggestion stuck on his lips. He did not want her at the movies; he wanted her here, where he could look up and know she was by his side.
George Tompkins arrived breezily at eight o'clock.
"Aha!" he cried reprovingly, coming into the room. "Still at it."
Roger agreed coolly that he was.
"Better quit—better quit before you have to."
He sat down with a long sigh of physical comfort and lit a cigarette. "Take it from a fellow who's looked into the question scientifically. We can stand so much, and then—bang!"
"If you'll excuse me"—Roger made his voice as polite as possible—"I'm going up-stairs and finish this work."