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Now he was in the doorway, looking quite commonplace and natural, except for a sharp frown above the eyes which usually smiled at sight of her.

“Hello, little woman,” he said, drawing her close with that little air of proprietorship which never failed to thrill her, “I’m leaving for South Bethlehem at five—back Thursday—wonder if you could pack my bag while I take a nap? Head aches.”

He was out of his coat and shoes with the last word.

“Put in a soft shirt,” he added as he sank on the couch and reached for the rug.

“Has anything happened?” asked Mrs. Larry, adjusting the rug to his feet in the way he liked best.

“I should say so,” he answered drowsily. “Directors couldn’t declare any dividend this quarter. Had all of us on the carpet this morning. Seems up to me and Duggan to reduce expenses. I’ve got to cut about ten thousand dollars in my department this year. Call me at three-thirty, will you, dear?”

And he was off!

Mrs. Larry stood like a statue, staring down an this wonderful creature who, confronted by the task of reducing expenses by ten thousand a year, could fall off asleep in a few seconds.