"I do think, Jamison," he said presently, "we did a pretty good job."
Jamison grunted.
"If—if it's really over," said Paula hopefully, "Charles—"
"What?"
"You—will be able to think about me sometimes," asked Paula wistfully, "instead of about The Master always?"
Bell stared down at her.
"Good Lord!" he groaned. "I have been a brute, Paula! But I've been loving you—" He stopped, and then said with the elaborate politeness and something of the customary idiotic air of a man making such an announcement. "I say, Jamison, did you know Paula and I were to be married?"
Jamison snorted. Then he said placidly:
"No. Of course not. I never dreamed of such a thing. When did this remarkably original idea occur to you?"
He puffed a huge cloud of smoke from his cigar. It was an unusually vile cigar. Bell scowled at him helplessly for a moment and then said wrathfully: