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 of the fact that she did not know his affairs were at a crisis—and that he did not intend her to know it.

"Oh, by the way, Fay," her husband remarked quite casually, when at last they were alone; "you might hear some talk tomorrow about shutting down our works temporarily. Don't let it disturb you. We always do begin laying men off this time of year, and this is part of our sales campaign on the Nemos. One of our quick, market-startling turns."

If Fay's mind had not been full of a thousand details about her lake-going party tomorrow, she might have lifted her brows and steadied her blue eyes upon her husband's face, she might have asked questions, casual, blundering, woman questions, that would have torn the thin tissue of dissimulation from before his face, but her mind was full of those details. Would Herbie McRae go, she wondered, and the Austins? The Irwins had already promised.

"George," she said sweetly, and threw her arms upon his shoulders for a moment, "you're a wonderful man, and when you get your business far enough along so you can devote all your time to me, you're going to be a wonderful husband!"

"Going to be? Well, I like that!" protested George, pretending playfully to be ruffled, but careful to let her see that it was only pretense