TIMBER
95
stopping again on the page where he forecasted his possible profits. She folded the paper and placed it in the envelope and as she tossed it to the dressing table there was something savage in the gesture and she sniffed disdainfully.
In the hall a telephone jingled and she went to answer it.
"Hello—Oh, yes, Phil—No, not tonight, thank you—Oh, I've a headache—By the way, Phil, has Mr. Taylor heard from John? He has? No—Yes—after all, you might take me out a while this evening—about nine? Good-bye."
Looking at the reflection of her cool blue eyes as her cool small hands worked in her golden hair, Marcia spoke again:
"Of course, if he should please his—But, damn it all! He doesn't want the old crab's money!"
