And she accompanied the words with such a quaint smile that Norman found himself echoing Carr's "Not at all."
"Professor Saylor looks dead tired," she said, peering at Norman anxiously. "I hope you haven't been wearing him out, Linthicum."
"Oh, no, my dear, I've been doing all the work," her husband told her.
She walked around the desk and looked over his shoulder. "What is it?" she asked, pleasantly.
"I don't know," he said. He straightened up and, winking at Norman, went on, "I believe that, behind these symbols, Professor Saylor is revolutionizing the science of sociology. But it's a great secret. And in any case I haven't the slightest idea of what the symbols refer to. I'm just being a comptometer."
With a polite, by-your-leave nod toward Norman, Mrs. Carr picked up one of the sheets and studied it through her thick glasses. But when she saw the massed rows of symbols, she put it down.
"Mathematics is not my forte," she explained. "I was such a poor scholar."
"Nonsense, Flora," said Carr. "Whenever we go to the market, you're much quicker at totaling the bill than I am. And I try to beat you, too."
"But that's such a little thing," cooed Mrs. Carr delightedly.
"I'll only be a moment more," said her husband, returning to his calculations.