He worked even harder than before--so hard, in fact, that Deborah, with whom through Bruce and Edith he had long ago struck up an easy bantering friendship, had sturdily set herself the task of prying open his eyes a bit.

She had taken him to her school at night and to queer little foreign cafes.

And Baird, with a humor of his own, had retaliated by dragging her to the Astor Roof and to musical plays.
"If my eyes are to be opened," he had doggedly declared, "I propose to have some diamonds in the scenery, and a little cheery ragtime, too.

You've got a good heart, Deborah Gale, but your head is full of tenements." To-night to divert Bruce's thoughts from his wife, Baird started him talking of his work.

In six weeks Bruce had crammed his mind with the details of skyscraper building, and his talk was bewildering now, bristling with technical terms, permeated through and through with the feeling of strain and fierce competition.