"No," admitted Janet, "it isn’t. So many topical matters have had to be disposed of lately that the final copy of the play has been held back." Janet could scarcely dwell on her employer’s growing penchant for conversation with her when his wife was presumed to be securely occupied. "Mr. Grey," said his wife, half reflectively, "Mr. Grey has the creative temperament." She frequently aired this phrase; it had, she believed, the ring and tang of distinction. Privately, she thought that the artistic temperament incapacitated a man from the sane discharge of his most elementary duties. "The creative temperament," she went on, "is too fine to cope with the details of business." She gave Janet to understand that it was imperative that the success of "The Great Reprieve" should be followed up without delay. "Mr. Sarsfield, the manager," continued Mrs. Grey, "has just telephoned anxiously for the next manuscript." "Mr. Grey is still working on the revision of the third act," said Janet. "As soon as he finishes it, I shall rush the whole play through. Of course, I can type the first two acts at once." "Yes, do. But can you work uninterruptedly here? Perhaps you could finish it faster at home—instead of coming here?" Janet jumped at the chance. "Certainly," she said, "I can finish it at home in half the time." Mrs. Grey was taken aback. On second thoughts, she put Janet’s eagerness down to the new feminist strategy. "There’s the risk," she said, uneasily picturing the precious pages at the mercy of the New York transit services. Anxious to escape the assiduities of the wife, if not of the husband, Janet gave reckless assurances of her devotion to the manuscript. Mrs. Grey finally assented to the arrangement. Janet was to take the manuscript in sections and, if the scheme worked well, she might do all future typewriting for the playwright in the same way. She need come to the Greys’ house only for the dictation. "I hope Mr. Grey will be satisfied," Janet could not help saying, once the bundle of papers was safely tucked under her arm. "I hope so," said Mrs. Grey meditatively. "But who can fathom the ways of the creative temperament—?" She left an eloquent hiatus. From which Janet inferred that the shortest way with that particular temperament was to let the explanation follow the act. *V* This bout with the green-eyed monster had taken place shortly before Claude’s petulant flight to the Armstrong estate in Huntington. To Janet the whole affair was very ludicrous, and none the less so in that she had given Mrs. Grey little cause for anxiety.