And how about coffee?"

She brought the coffee, such as it was, and a can of condensed milk.
Also crackers, and fruit. She took the baby and sat silent.

"Shall I come home to lunch?" he asked.

"Perhaps you'd better not," she replied coldly.

"Is there to be any dinner?"

"Dinner will be ready at six-thirty, if I have to get it myself."

"If you have to get it yourself I'll allow for seven-thirty," said he,
trying to be cheerful, though she seemed little pleased by it. "Now
don't take it so hard, Ellie. You are a first-class architect,
anyhow--one can't be everything. We'll get another girl in time. This
is just the common lot out here. All the women have the same trouble."

"Most women seem better able to meet it!" she burst forth. "It's not my
trade! I'm willing to work, I like to work, but I can't _bear_
housework! I can't seem to learn it at all! And the servants will not
do it properly!"

"Perhaps they know your limitations, and take advantage of them! But
cheer up, dear. It's no killing matter. Order by phone, don't forget
the ice, and I'll try to get home early and help. Don't cry, dear girl,
I love you, even if you aren't a good cook! And you love me, don't
you?"