It was at that time that Mr. Eammer heard that I, a young physicist interested in optics, had stumbled across an oddity which might revolutionize the movie industry. He'd heard of this through Mary, whom I love with all my heart, and who will sometimes embarrass me by proudly telling people how intelligent I am.
As Mr. Eammer's secretary, she let him know all about me, just as she let me know all I have just told you about him. Mary is not a reticent person; she is too loving of her fellow man to withhold even the slightest information and perhaps I should have kept my astonishing discovery to myself.
In any case the phone rang in my very small laboratory one day and Mary's excited voice said, "Joe, darling. It's me. I told him about your invention. Come down right away."
"Who?" I said. "Where? What are you talking about?"
"To the studio," she said impatiently. "To see my boss, Mr. Eammer. He says if your invention is...."
"Now wait a minute," I shouted with indignation. "I told you not to tell anybody about it. It's not perfected. In fact, I don't understand how it works exactly."
"Stop being so modest," she said firmly. "I know you. You're a genius and genius is never, never satisfied. I read all about it. You want us to get married, don't you?"
"Yes," I said, sudden longing surging through my heart.
"Can we afford to? No. So come on down. Anyway, I already told him. Don't make me into a ... a liar," begged Mary. "If he likes your invention, maybe he'll buy it."