"But—but you haven't any grounds," Marc said hopefully.
"Don't worry about that," Julie replied, opening the door. "By the time I get to court, I'll have more grounds than a national park."
The slam of the door put a very definite end to the discussion.
Marc and Toffee stared dumbly at each other as the angry tap of Julie's heels, retreating through the outer office, and down the stairs, sounded dimly back to them through the closed door. Toffee dropped limply into an upholstered chair and drew her feet up under her.
"I just can't understand it," she said contentedly. "I just can't understand how your mind could be so dull when your life is so exciting."
"Oh, my life is a perfect scream," Marc smoldered. "Only I save up the good parts for when you're around to enjoy them. They seem better that way."
"You're sweet, Marc," Toffee replied sincerely.
Marc looked at her unbelievingly. "I just don't know how it happened," he said quietly. "Except for that hideous old crow out there in the main office, everything was perfectly tip-top this morning. Now, all of a sudden, my wife is suing me for divorce, my most important advertising copy is missing, and if I don't find it by morning, my business is just as good as ruined. Where did it all start?" He dropped dejectedly into the chair behind his desk and rested his chin in his hand. Once again the room became silent.
"It was that blonde," he said absently, after a moment.