"Wasn't. But--well, I got kind of stale on shells, and I thought I'd like some smoke and soot for a change. So I came home. Oh--you get off here?" "Yes," Mr. Weston said, briefly, and stepped out into the echoing corridor. In his private office he sat down, and, with his hands in his pockets, his legs stretched out in front of him, regarded his boots. "Well, he's back," he said to himself. After a long time he got up, put on his hat, and, heedless of the questioning young lady at the typewriter, slammed his office door behind him. "I'm hard hit," he told himself, roughly, as he stepped into the descending elevator. "It appears that I am capable of feeling something more than '_amusement_.' I'll go and buy the wedding-present. The application of a check that I can't afford may be curative." The cure would have seemed still more necessary if he could have seen how Howard was welcomed in the real-estate office. Frederica's astonished pleasure was as frank as a man's. "Good work!" she said, and struck her hand into his. "But I didn't expect you for a month!" "I couldn't stand it any longer," he told her, joyously. "How's business? How's Laura?" "Well, clients are not exactly blocking the corridors," she said; "but I'm bursting with pride; I came out ahead last month!" "Gee!" he said, admiringly. "Well, tell us the news!" "I've finished my paper," she said. She pushed an open map aside so that she could sit on the edge of her big office table, and looked at him delightedly. "I'm crazy to read it to you. Sit down and light up!" She struck a match on the sole of her shoe, and handed it to him. "I'm crazy to hear it! Laura's skiddooed. I went to Billy-boy's"--he blew the match out and dropped it on the floor;--"and got thrown down on the front steps." "Yes, she's playing around with the Mortons. I was asked, but--there are so many more interesting things here! Howard, they are talking about abolishing the red-light district, and we're going to get that bill I wrote you about, through the Legislature, if we _bust_!" "What bill?" "Registration. Health certificate--or no marriage license! You've got to roll up your sleeves and get busy." "All right," he agreed, promptly. "She's not engaged, is she?" "Who? Laura? Heavens, no! She has something else to think of than your sex. Look here: why don't you come out to my bungalow and we'll talk things out?" She explained that though she had moved back to Payton Street she still used the camp when she had what she called a "night out." "I take Flora along for propriety. Isn't that rich? I tell you what, I've been a boon to the whole connection. I've given 'em something to talk about!"