"Oh, you'd do anything to save fifty dollars a week on your salary list," she retorted.
"About that fifty dollars, listen to me, Goldie!" Fieldstone began, just as Ralph and Mrs. Fieldstone came through the revolving doors. "I don't want you to think I'm small, see? And if you say you must have it, why, I'll give it to you." He leaned forward and smiled affably at her. "After the thirtieth week!" he concluded in seductive tones.
"Right from the day we open!" Miss Raymond said, tapping the tablecloth with her fingertips.
"Now, sweetheart," Fieldstone began, as he seized her hand and squeezed it affectionately, "you know as well as I do when I say a thing I mean it, because——"
And it was here that Mrs. Fieldstone, losing all control of herself and all remembrance of Ralph's admonition, took the aisle in as few leaps as her fashionable skirt permitted and brought up heavily against her husband's table.
"Jake!" she cried hysterically. "Jake, what is this?"
Fieldstone dropped Miss Raymond's hand and jumped out of his chair.
"Why, mommer!" he exclaimed. "What's the matter? Is the children sick?"
He caught her by the arm, but she shook him off and turned threateningly to Miss Raymond.
"You hussy, you!" she said. "What do you mean by it?"