Ted pulled out his watch. "I want to get down and see Deane at his noon office hours," he said.
Harriett turned from the window. "What have you got to see him about?" she asked sharply.
"Why—just see him," he answered in surprise. "Why shouldn't I want to see him? Haven't seen him since I got back. He'll want to hear about Ruth."
Harriett seemed about to speak, then looked at the door of the kitchen, where a man was packing dishes. "I don't think I'd go to him for that," she said in lowered voice.
Ted looked at her in bewildered inquiry.
"Mrs. Franklin has left him," she said shortly. She glanced at the kitchen door, then added in a voice that dropped still lower: "And the talk is that it's because of Ruth."
For a minute Ted just stood staring at her. Then his face was aflame with angry blood. "The talk!" he choked. "So that's the new 'talk'! Well—"
"S—h," warned Harriett, and stepped over and closed the kitchen door.
"I'd like to tell some of them what I think of their 'talk,'" he blazed. "Oh, I'd like to tell some of these warts—"
"Ted!" she admonished, nodding her head toward the closed door.