occupied by the stenographer and the office boy, into Mr. Krimp's room,
or Room 6020; for it was by the simple expedient of numbering rooms in
tens and units that the owner of the Algonquin Theatre Building had
provided his tenants with such commodious suites of offices--on their
letterheads at least.

"By jinks! I clean forgot all about it, Miss Schwartz," Ralph said
after Mr. Bienenflug had become closeted with his more recent client.
"He told me to tell you to come in and take some dictation."

"I'll go in all right," Miss Schwartz said; and she entered Mr.
Bienenflug's room determined to pluck out the heart of Mrs.
Fieldstone's mystery.

It needed no effort on the stenographer's part, however; for as soon as
she said "How do you do, Mrs. Fieldstone?" Mrs. Fieldstone forthwith
unbosomed herself.

"Listen, Miss Schwartz," she said. "I've been here about buying houses,
and I've been here about putting out tenants--and all them things; but
I never thought I would come here about Jake."

Out of consideration for Ralph, Miss Schwartz had left the door ajar,
and Ralph discreetly seated himself on one side where he might hear
unobserved.

"Why, what's the trouble now, Mrs. Fieldstone?" Miss Schwartz asked.

"Former times he usen't to come home till two--three o'clock," Mrs.
Fieldstone repeated; "and last week twice already he didn't come home
at all; but he telephoned--I will say that for him." Here she burst
into tears, which in a woman of Mrs. Fieldstone's weight and style of
beauty--for she was by no means unhandsome--left Ralph entirely
unmoved. "Last night," she sobbed, "he ain't even telephoned!"

"Well," Miss Schwartz said soothingly, "you've got to expect that in
the show business. Believe me, Mrs. Fieldstone, you should ought to
jump right in with a motion for alimony before he spends it all on them
others."

"That's where you make a big mistake, Miss Schwartz," Mrs. Fieldstone
said indignantly. "My Jake ain't got no eyes for no other woman but me!
It ain't that, I know! If it was I wouldn't stick at nothing. I'd
divorce him like a dawg! The thing is--now--I consider should I sue him
in the courts for a separation or shouldn't I wait to see if he
wouldn't quit staying out all night. Mr. Bienenflug wants me I should
do it--but I don't know."

She sighed tremulously and opened wide the flap of her handbag, which
was fitted with a mirror and a powder puff; and after she had made good
the emotional ravag