She laid resisting fingers on his arm.
“Of course you can’t. That’s one of your charms, Mort, dear. It’s much better for a woman to be misunderstood. The husband who ‘understands’ his wife is on the highway to purgatory. Ask no more questions. If I answer them I surely will lie to you.”
“What the deuce can Daggett and McDade be doing for you. They’re job-printers. They don’t engrave your cards or stationery or anything——”
“N——o,” with a rising inflection.
“Well—what?”
“I needed some printing.”
“Well, why not go to Tiffany’s? The idea of your sending me away over on the East side——”
“They’re such adorable printers, Mort.”
“Who ever heard of a printer being adorable? Fudge! What’s the game now? Can’t you tell a fellow?”
“No,” firmly.