They dropped into a cozy corner in the hall, a nook favored of couples. It was immediately on the other side of the curtain at Jack's hand and he could therefore hear every word spoken above a whisper. He was debating with himself whether or not the circumstances justified him in playing the eavesdropper, when he heard Miriam say: "You've never told me how you and Jack met, and how you came to choose him for your secretary." That decided Jack. He gave no sign of his presence. Bobo replied: "Oh, I've known him a good while. When I worked in the sash factory down-town, he was there, too." "What did you do there?" "Bookkeeper." "What did Jack do?" "Oh he--he was a bookkeeper, too. There were two of us. And we were friends outside the office, too. Used to go round together nights. So when I came into my money--why it was natural for me to get Jack to help me to look after it." "Not bad for Bobo," thought Jack. He pricked up his ears at the next words. "I don't see how you put up with him!" said Miriam. "Put up with him!" echoed Bobo. In his fancy Jack could see the blank look that overspread the honest fat face. "Why--why, what's the matter with Jack?" "The way he runs you, I mean. One would think he was the millionaire, and you the hired secretary." Bobo made queer, scared noises in his throat. It seemed to Jack that Miriam must suspect that she had hit the nail on the head, but apparently she did not, for her next words were in the same drawling, careless tone. "He all but tells you how to answer when people speak to you." "Oh!" said Bobo, somewhat relieved. "But Jack's clever, and I'm not." "You're not as stupid as he likes to make out," suggested Miriam. "Devil!" thought Jack. "Make out!" said Bobo. "Jack doesn't make out anything. He's my friend." "My poor Bobo!" she said with indulgent tenderness. "You're criminally good-natured! Of course he knows which side his bread is buttered on. He's not going to say anything openly. But _friends_! Oh, how blind you are!" "Jack and I are friends," repeated Bobo. "Jack's on the square!" She laughed delicately. Jack guessed that she patted Bobo's hand or something like that. "Oh, well, let's change the subject," she said in a tone that forced him to continue it. "No," said Bobo, just as she had intended him to. "Tell me what you mean. Does he talk about me?" "Oh, it isn't what he _says_," she said with seeming reluctance. "But it makes me mad! Always poking fun at you!" "Liar!" thought Jack. "Making fun of me!" said Bobo in hurt tones. "Behind my back! I didn't think it of him!" "There, forget it," she said soothingly. "It doesn't make any difference to your real friends." "What did he say about me?" "I shan't tell you. I don't want to make trouble." Jack grimly smiled to himself. "But I don't see why you put up with it," she presently went on. "As it is, you daren't call your soul your own. He manages you like a child--you a grown man."