"Things are getting on. Circulation's up to fifteen thousand—due to the strike."
"How so?"
"We got out a strike edition—and the girls peddled it around town, and lots subscribed. It's given the paper a big boost."
"I'm glad to hear it," Myra found herself saying.
"You glad?" If only his voice hadn't been so weary! "That's strange, Myra."
"It is strange!" she said, her eyes suffused again. His gray, tragic face seemed to be working on the very strings of her heart. She longed so to help him, to heal him, to breathe joy and strength into him.
"Joe!" she said.
He looked at her again.
"Yes, Myra."
"Oh—I—" She paused.