Sinfully Rich by Hulbert Footner — Read

As soon as he got home, Mike wrote up his notebook. These notes were for his own future guidance, not his paper. His problems did not permit him to get much sleep. He went to bed sore and woke up sore a few hours later. By leaving Amy Fentress flat, he knew he had made a powerful and implacable enemy. She would undoubtedly whisper to all her intimates that Mike Speedon had "_admitted_ it, darling!" Not that I give a damn, Mike told himself, but it drives me crazy that such a woman should be able to get away with it! She ought to be locked up with a diet of bread and water! As a matter of fact, Mike cared a good deal what people said.

At nine o'clock he was at work in his office in the Recorder-Press Building. He found it impossible to write a word about the Ware case. All he could do was to dig up some reserve copy that he kept for emergencies. It was none too fresh. Doggedly hammering it out on the typewriter, he was finished by eleven, and already correcting proof. Hamilton Wade, big boss of the _Recorder-Press_, came in smiling slyly. Such condescension was unusual. Nearly everybody around the shop jumped at his approach, but Mike was too sore; he merely looked up. He knew he was in for trouble and he waited for it.