and Mrs. . "Who, then?" demanded Jack. ” He threw his head back. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) welcomed the diversion. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. It hardly served his interests. She entered the room in the shadows. " "First, let me introduce my friends," returned Jack, stepping to the door. Every home is a little recess, a niche, out of the world of business and competition, in which women and the future shelter.
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