THE BRASS BOWL
The room was a typical office, well but severely furnished. The rug that covered the tile floor was of rich quality and rare design. The neutral-tinted walls were bare, but for a couple of steel engravings in heavy wooden frames. There were three heavily upholstered leather arm-chairs and one revolving desk-chair; a roll-top desk, against the partition wall, a waste-paper basket, and a flat-topped desk, or table. And that was all.
Or not quite all, else the office equipment had not been complete. There was the telephone!
But he would hear! Or was the partition sound-proof?
As if in contradiction of the suggestion, there came to her ears very clearly the sound of the hall door creaking on its hinges, and then a man's voice, shrill with anger and anxiety.
"You fool! Do you want to ruin us both? What do you mean"
The door crashed to, interrupting the protest and drowning Anisty's reply.
"I was passing," the new voice took up its plain-
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