Jack's smile irritated her. She lost her joyful look. The commoner aspect of her broke through. "I'm Mrs. Norman," she said with a disagreeable laugh. She displayed her wedding-ring. "You can't get around that! Remember it, the next time you start out to get the better of me."
"Miriam, for God's sake, don't provoke him!" whispered poor Bobo.
"Provoke him!" she said, raising her voice. "You seem strangely afraid of hurting the feelings of your secretary. He needs to be provoked. He's too big for his shoes! Let him understand that I'm the mistress now, and his chance of keeping his job depends on his pleasing me!"
Bobo almost fainted.
Jack met her eyes squarely. "All right, my lady!" he was thinking. "My turn will come later!" He foresaw that his game in the future would be furthered if he appeared to submit. So he bowed—but he could not quite iron out the mocking smile.
"I only aim to please!" said he.
Miriam looked at him suspiciously.
"What do you wish me to do, Mr. Norman?" he asked Bobo.
To that youth it was like a ray of light breaking through. He lifted his eyes to Jack with a kind of sheeplike gratitude. But he seemed incapable of speech.
Miriam answered for him. "Go back to New York, and wait for us at the Madagascar."