A moment later he was standing on the table beside her.
"This is the place, all right," she said, looking at the thick scum of dust on the top of the reflector.
Quickly she placed the little black disc close to the center on the top of the reflector.

"Can you see that from the floor ?" she asked.
"No," he answered, walking about the room, "not a sign of it." "I'll sit here," she said in just a tremor of excitement over the adventure, "and listen while you talk in the board room." Brainard entered.

It seemed ridiculous for him to talk to himself.
"If the microphone works," he said at length, "rap on the desk twice." Then he added, half laughing to himself, "If it doesn't, rap once--Constance." A single rap came in answer.
"If you couldn't hear," he smiled entering her office, "why did you rap once!" "It didn't work smoothly on that last word." "What--Constance ?" He thought there was a subtle change in their relations since the microphone incident.

At any rate she was not angry.

Were they not partners?
"I think it will be better if I turn that microphone around," she remarked.