Jim left, and I went around to his place. If there is one thing I do more badly than another, it is carving. At home it's done in the kitchen, but Jim takes great pride in the neatness and celerity with which he separates the component parts of a fowl and so insists on having the undissected whole brought to the table. "What is it to-night?" Mary asked as I eyed my task with disfavor. "Roast duck." I tried to speak casually. "Wait, Bupps, while Wicks lays the oilcloth and I get an umbrella." "Smarty!" I responded, grabbing my tools firmly, "you wait and see! I watched Jim the last time he carved one of these and I know just how it's done." I speared for the duck's back, but the fork skidded down the slippery side of the bird and spattered a drop of gravy in front of me. "I'm waiting and seeing," Mary chided. "Well, you wanted some gravy, didn't you?" "Yes, but on my plate, please." This time I placed the tines of the fork carefully on the exact middle of the duck's breast and gently pushed, giving some aid and comfort with my knife. The little beast eased over on the platter an inch or two. "The thing's still alive," I exclaimed, getting mad. "If you'll let me have full control, I'll carve it for you," Mary spoke up. "Come on, then," I responded, gladly relinquishing my place. With a deftness and ease that could only be explained by the fact that the duck was ready and willing to be carved, she removed the legs and then demolished the bird altogether. There was the sound of voices raised in altercation up-stairs, the slamming of a door and the patter of feet rapidly descending the steps. The next moment Helen burst into the room. She was fully dressed for going out and was pinning on her hat with spiteful little jabs. "Will you take me home, Warren?" Mary left me and went over to her. "What has happened, Helen?" "Oh, I can't stay here another minute. It is bad enough to have to stay in the same house with a man you loathe, but when a husband bribes his wife's servants to spy on her and watch over her as though she were a dangerous lunatic--" Her eyes were blazing. Mary put her arm around her and tried to quiet her. "Helen, dear, you don't know how ridiculous that is. No one is spying on you." Helen tore herself away. "That's right, stand up for him! You're all against me, I know. The only reason Warren brought you here, was to try to talk me into staying with him. Well, I won't, you understand? I won't! I hate him! I could kill him! If you won't take me home, Warren, I'll go alone." She was almost hysterical. "Have you thought what this would do to mother?" I asked. "She doesn't know you've quarreled with Jim. If she found out you were contemplating a divorce, it would kill her. You know how weak she is." I heard Jim's heavy tread coming downstairs. "Can I stay with you, Mary?" Big tears stood in Helen's eyes and she seemed on the verge of a complete breakdown.