“Sorry, Lewis. I don’t know where to get another.”
He had to let it go at that.
I went home that evening grinning to myself, thinking about Lewis. The guy was fit to be tied. He wouldn’t sleep until he found out what the thing was, now that he’d started on it. It probably would keep him out of my hair for a week or so.
I went into the den. The glasses still were on the desk. I stood there for a moment, looking at them, wondering what was wrong. Then I saw that the lenses had a pinkish shade.
I picked them up, noticing that the lenses had been replaced by the kind in the triangular pair I had found there the night before.
Just then, Helen came into the room and I could tell, even before she spoke, that she had been waiting for me.
“Joe Adams,” she demanded, “what have you been up to?”
“Not a thing,” I told her.
“Marge says you got Lewis all upset.”
“It doesn’t take a lot to upset him.”