"I don't like to _read_ about them," she retorted, and she turned a
wanton smile in the direction of Hilmer.

At this juncture the maid opened the folding doors between the dining
room and the living room. She had on her hat and coat, and, as she
retreated to the kitchen, Helen Starratt flashed a significant look at
her husband.

He followed the woman reluctantly. When he entered the kitchen she was
leaning against the sink, smoothing on a pair of faded silk gloves.

"I'm sorry," he began, awkwardly, "but I forgot to cash a check
to-day. How much do you charge?"

The woman's hands flew instinctively to her hips as she braced herself
into an attitude of defiance.

"Three dollars!" she snapped. "And my car fare."

He searched his pockets and held out a palm filled with silver for her
inspection. "I've just got two forty," he announced, apologetically.
"You see, we usually have Mrs. Finn. She knows us and I felt sure
she'd wait until next time. If you give me your address I can send you
the difference to-morrow."

She tossed back her head. "Nothing doing!" she retorted. "I don't give
a damn what you thought. I want my money now or, by Gawd, I'll start
something!"