"The remark was a general one," Mr. Harbison retorted, "but if
you wish to make a concrete application--!"

Dal had gone up just then, and found them glaring at each other,
Jim with his hands clenched at his sides, and Mr. Harbison with
his arms folded and very erect. Dal took Jim by the elbow and led
him downstairs, muttering, and the situation was saved for the
time. But Dal was not optimistic.

"You can do a bit yourself, Kit," he finished. "Look more
cheerful, flirt a little. You can do that without trying. Take
Max on for a day or so; it would be charity anyhow. But don't let
Tom Harbison take into his head that you are grieving over Jim's
neglect, or he's likely to toss him off the roof."

"I have no reason to think that Mr. Harbison cares one way or the
other about me," I said primly. "You don't think he's--he's in
love with me, do you, Dal?" I watched him out of the corner of my
eye, but he only looked amused.

"In love with you!" he repeated. "Why bless your wicked little
heart, no! He thinks you're a married woman! It's the principle
of the thing he's fighting for. If I had as much principle as he
has, I'd--I'd put it out at interest."

Max interrupted us just then, and asked if we knew where Mr.
Harbison was.

"Can't find him," he said. "I've got the telephone together and