Fanny smiled at the colorless and unsuspecting Henrietta. Her sense of humor had done for her what her sense of justice had failed to do. It controlled her fancies. To imagine Henrietta giving her lips wildly to anybody, particularly the red-faced Mr. Mackay, was ludicrous. Poor Henrietta with her two noisy children and her interminable sewing. She didn't envy her the children. Thank Heaven, despite Aubrey's high-minded attitude toward sex as a distasteful mechanism through which the race continued itself, they had had no children. There was something pitiful about Henrietta. She was so dumb. And even when she dressed up and powdered and frilled, she always seemed tired. A stranger might think she was an invalid just recovered from some serious illness.... Henrietta was probably like Aubrey about "those things". Very high-minded and aloof. Mr. Mackay and Aubrey were talking about advertising now. They always did this soon or late. And they usually quarreled because Aubrey was inclined to insist that his end of the business--the preparation of copy and ad. material--was as important as Mr. Mackay's end. Mr. Mackay was in charge of the salesmen. She hadn't wanted to call on her brother. But Aubrey insisted. There was a deal on. The city was going to do a lot of advertising and the firm of Mackay-Gilchrist wanted the job. Basine could help them pull wires. The bell rang and interrupted their talk. "That must be George," Henrietta exclaimed. She grew nervous and began to flutter. The maid was out for the afternoon and she went to the door herself. A strange voice came from the hall as the door opened. "Oh, come right in. George isn't home but I expect him any minute," Henrietta greeted the arrival. Paul Schroder, one of the attorneys who worked in the mysterious place called the state attorney's office with her husband, entered. He was younger than her husband and of a type she disliked. She didn't like George to have him as a friend. He was too brutal looking. And too noisy. Her submission to George had developed a keen set of prejudices in her. She liked only people who reminded her of her husband--normal-sized, thin men with aristocratic manners, and quick nervous eyes. And what she liked in such people was only the parts of them that seemed like George. All other kinds of men annoyed her. Particularly the kind Schroder was--rough, coarse and laughing too loudly always. She thought of him as a vulgar animal and once or twice hinted to George that she didn't like to have him visit the house. Schroder entered, his blond, well shaped head tossing dramatically. The exuberance of his manner gave him the air of being larger than he was. Aubrey Gilchrist when he straightened up was taller than Schroder and Mr. Mackay's shoulders were broader. But somehow the blond-headed man dwarfed them both as he shook hands with them. He sat down next to Fanny.