Francis Pake. "Overtime or that night out?" "I can't tell you for certain, sweet. I'll phone you. I'm nearly sure, but — " "This is it," said Betty Pake. She got up from the breakfast table. "Change your job or change your wife. Quite simple, Frank. I thought I'd married a man, not an accounting machine." She said a lot more before Pake finished his breakfast. He sighed, missed when he pecked for her cheek, and left. The Mitchell embezzlement which had kept him in the office all hours for the past three months had been finally straightened out yesterday, and full material for the indictment handed over. Tonight, dine, dance and drink with Betty — unless something new turned up. She rated the break, of course, apart from the fact that her nerves, unsettled by a quiet life, played, hell with his digestion. Maybe she should have married a younger man, with time and money to spare for her idea of living. He realized uncomfortably that he was half hoping something would prevent the date.
