"Wait a minute," said Roger angrily; "that's not quite fair. I'm not kidding myself about the importance of my work--it's just as useless as the stuff you do. But to Gretchen and me it's just about the most important thing in the world." "Are you implying that my work is useless?" demanded Tompkins incredulously. "No; not if it brings happiness to some poor sucker of a pants manufacturer who doesn't know how to spend his money." Tompkins and Gretchen exchanged a glance. "Oh-h-h!" exclaimed Tompkins ironically. "I didn't realize that all these years I've just been wasting my time." "You're a loafer," said Roger rudely. "Me?" cried Tompkins angrily. "You call me a loafer because I have a little balance in my life and find time to do interesting things? Because I play hard as well as work hard and don't let myself get to be a dull, tiresome drudge?" Both men were angry now, and their voices had risen, though on Tompkins's face there still remained the semblance of a smile. "What I object to," said Roger steadily, "is that for the last six weeks you seem to have done all your playing around here." "Roger!" cried Gretchen. "What do you mean by talking like that?" "Just what I said." "You've just lost your temper." Tompkins lit a cigarette with ostentatious coolness. "You're so nervous from overwork you don't know what you're saying. You're on the verge of a nervous break----" "You get out of here!" cried Roger fiercely. "You get out of here right now--before I throw you out!" Tompkins got angrily to his feet. "You--you throw me out?" he cried incredulously. They were actually moving toward each other when Gretchen stepped between them, and grabbing Tompkins's arm urged him toward the door. "He's acting like a fool, George, but you better get out," she cried, groping in the hall for his hat. "He insulted me!" shouted Tompkins. "He threatened to throw me out!" "Never mind, George," pleaded Gretchen. "He doesn't know what he's saying. Please go! I'll see you at ten o'clock to-morrow." She opened the door. "You won't see him at ten o'clock to-morrow," said Roger steadily. "He's not coming to this house any more." Tompkins turned to Gretchen. "It's his house," he suggested. "Perhaps we'd better meet at mine." Then he was gone, and Gretchen had shut the door behind him. Her eyes were full of angry tears. "See what you've done!" she sobbed. "The only friend I had, the only person in the world who liked me enough to treat me decently, is insulted by my husband in my own house." She threw herself on the sofa and began to cry passionately into the pillows. "He brought it on himself," said Roger stubbornly. "I've stood as much as my self-respect will allow. I don't want you going out with him any more." "I will go out with him!" cried Gretchen wildly. "I'll go out with him all I want! Do you think it's any fun living here with you?"