look that said, "We both see the humor of this. Most people
wouldn't. Our angle is the same." Such a glance jumps the
gap between acquaintance and friendship that whole days of
spoken conversation cannot cover.

"Cigar?" asked Fenger, hoping to stay the flood.

"No, thanks. Say, Fenger, would there be a row if I smoked
my pipe?"

"That black one? With the smell?"

"The black one, yes."

"There would." Fenger glanced in toward his wife, and
smiled, dryly.
Fascinating Facts took his hand out of his pocket,
regretfully.

"Wouldn't it sour a fellow on marriage! Wouldn't it! First
those two in there, with their damned linen closets, and
their rugs--I beg your pardon, Miss Brandeis! And now your
missus objects to my pipe. You wouldn't treat me like that,
would you, Miss Brandeis?"

There was about him something that appealed--something
boyish and likeable.

"No, I wouldn't. I'd let you smoke a nargileh, if you
wanted to, surrounded by rolls of blue prints."