Her eyes swept the writing briefly, and she made a sound of wonderment, as if amazed to find herself so true a prophet. “And the words weren’t more than out of my mouth! _You_ can go and have a grand party right in his flat, while your wife stays home and gets the baby to bed and washes the dishes!” “I’m not going.” “Oh, no!” she said mockingly. “I suppose not! I see you missing one of Charlie’s stag parties!” “I’ll miss this one.” But it was not to Mrs. Collinson’s purpose that he should miss the party; she wished him to be as intimate as possible with the debonair Charlie Loomis; and so, after carrying some dishes into the kitchenette in meditative silence, she reappeared with a changed manner. She went to her husband, gave him a shy little pat on the shoulder and laughed good-naturedly. “Of course you’ll go,” she said. “I do think you’re silly about my never going out with him when it would give me a little innocent pleasure and when you’re not home to take me, yourself; but I wasn’t really in such terrible earnest, all I said. You work hard the whole time, honey, and the only pleasure you ever do have, it’s when you get a chance to go to one of these little penny-ante stag parties. You haven’t been to one for ever so long, and you never stay after twelve; it’s really all right with me. I want you to go.” “Oh, no,” said Collinson. “It’s only penny-ante, but I couldn’t afford to lose anything at all.” “If you did lose, it’d only be a few cents,” she said. “What’s the difference, if it gives you a little fun? You’ll work all the better if you go out and enjoy yourself once in a while.” “Well, if you really look at it that way, I’ll go.” “That’s right, dear,” she said, smiling. “Better put on a fresh collar and your other suit, hadn’t you?” “I suppose so,” he assented, and began to make the changes she suggested. When he had completed his toilet, it was time for him to go. She came in from the kitchenette, kissed him, and then looked up into his eyes, letting him see a fond and brightly amiable expression. “There, honey,” she said. “Run along and have a nice time. Then maybe you’ll be a little more sensible about some of _my_ little pleasures.” He held the one hundred dollar bill folded in his hand, meaning to leave it with her, but as she spoke a sudden recurrence of suspicion made him forget his purpose. “Look here,” he said. “I’m not making any bargain with you. You talk as if you thought I was going to let you run around to vaudevilles with Charlie because you let me go to this party. Is that your idea?” It was, indeed, precisely Mrs. Collinson’s idea, and she was instantly angered enough to admit it in her retort. “Oh, aren’t you _mean_!” she cried. “I might know better than to look for any fairness in a man like you!” “See here----” “Oh, hush up!” she said. “Shame on you! Go on to your party!” With that she put both hands upon his breast, and pushed him toward the door. “I won’t go. I’ll stay here.”