other client! And the King a gambler, too!
How much are you going to make? was her next question.
I don't know. Enough for wedding bells, I hope. Howard was drawing on his coat. Perhaps we'll even buy a struggle-buggy.
I'm going with you, Olive cried as she raced to her bedroom. Where does he live? she called.
It isn't far. Hundred and—twenty-seventh Street.
Olive had returned with her cloak. I'll walk down with you, she said. I need the air. Besides, she added, I think I'll wait on the kerb till you come out. I've got to be the first to hear the big news.
The pair swung out of the room.
Byron stared at Mary. Pretty soft for Howard, he remarked bitterly. Pretty soft.
Mary tried to console him. I'm sorry that it isn't you, dear, she said, but remember that Howard's worked years for this. Think of all the time he spent in law school, and he's been out nearly a year without getting an important case.
Pretty slow, Byron groaned. He was standing now. To go from college directly to an elevator! I guess that'll lift me all right!
Don't! she begged him, raising his hand to her lips, Please don't!
Byron, she went on, I don't like this job of yours.
