"No," Earl said without moving.
"You sound tired," Irene said, going over to stand beside him. "Or is it spring fever—more accurately the summer doldrums."
"Neither," he said, glancing up at her with tired eyes. "I just want to be left alone. I'm thinking." He straightened up with a deep sigh. "Why don't you get Basil to have coffee with you?"
"That jerk?" Irene said. "He gets in my hair."
"Like you get in mine?" Earl said.
"That was cruel."
"Sorry," Earl relented. "I didn't get much sleep last night. I've got problems. I'd much rather be left alone with them right now."
Irene inspected him critically as a man might inspect his automobile. "Your eyes are bloodshot," she said. "Why not have some coffee with me and tell me your problems. Maybe I can help you."
"Nobody can help me—least of all you."
The phone on the desk in the corner rang. Earl went to answer it.