"Look here, Gertie, I don't want to butt in, and I'm guessing at it, but looks to me as though one of these artistic grafters was working you. What do you know about this Deitz person? Has she done anything worth while? And honestly, Gertie----By the way, I don't want to be brutal, but I don't think I could stand 'Eltruda.' It sounds like 'Tottykins.'" "Now really, Carl----" "Wait a second. How do you know you've got what you call a temperament? Go to it, and good luck, if you can get away with it. But how do you know it isn't simply living in a flat and not having any work to do _except_ developing a temperament? Why don't you try working with Ray in his office? He's a mighty good business man. This is just a sugges----" "Now really, this is----" "Look here, Gertie, the thing I've always admired about you is your wholesomeness and----" "'Wholesome!' Oh, that word! As Miss Deitz was saying just the other day, it's as bad----" "But you are wholesome, Gertie. That is, if you don't let New York turn your head; and if you'd use your ability on a real job, like helping Ray, or teaching--yes, or really sticking to your ceramics or dancing, and leave the temperament business to those who can get away with it. No, wait. I know I'm butting in; I know that people won't go and change their natures because I ask them to; but you see you--and Ray and Adelaide--you are the friends I depend on, and so I hate to see----" "Now, Carl dear, you might let me talk," said Gertie, in tones of maddening sweetness. "As I think it over, I don't seem to recall that you've been an authority on temperament for so very long. I seem to remember that you weren't so terribly wonderful in Joralemon! I'm glad to be the first to honor what you've done in aviation, but I don't know that that gives you the right to----" "Never said it did!" Carl insisted, with fictitious good humor. "----assume that you are an authority on temperament and art. I'm afraid that your head has been just a little turned by----" "Oh, hell.... Oh, I'm sorry. That just slipped." "It _shouldn't_ have slipped, you know. I'm _afraid_ it can't be passed over so _easily_." Gertie might have been a bustling Joralemon school-teacher pleasantly bidding the dirty Ericson boy, "Now go and wash the little hands." Carl said nothing. He was bored. He wished that he had not become entangled in their vague discussion of "temperament." Even more brightly Gertie announced: "I'm afraid you're not in a very good humor this afternoon. I'm sorry that my plans don't interest you. Of course, I should be very temperamental if I expected you to apologize for cursing and swearing, so I think I'll just leave you here, and when you feel better----" She was infuriatingly cheerful. "----I should be pleased to have you call me up. Good-by, Carl, and I hope that your walk will do you good." She turned into a footpath; left him muttering in tones of youthful injury, "Jiminy! I've done it now!" He was in Joralemon.