When Schiller pushed open the door to his office again and found Mrs. Miller still standing inside, he slammed the door shut with a bang and turned to leave.
Mrs. Miller cleared her throat, and her piercing shout came from behind the door. "Professor Schiller, if you don't immediately explain why you gave the paperboys double the usual tip, I'll call your butler..."
Schiller pushed the door open, sighed, and looked at Mrs. Miller. "Kind Mrs. Miller, couldn't I simply feel sorry for those homeless little ones?"
"But your lavish generosity will only make them neglect everyone else's newspapers. Someone has already complained to me that after forgetting to tip them one day, the ink on his newspaper was smeared into a mess."
Schiller pursed his lips, walked past the desk, reached out to turn on the lamp, and said, "But if I stop paying them now, then tomorrow, the ink on my newspaper will be smeared into a mess too."
"I'll teach them a lesson and make sure they deliver the best-printed newspapers equally to every subscriber every day. If they refuse, they can get out of here."
Then she suddenly looked down at her watch and said, "It's time for Doctor Brand to write prescriptions again. I have to go see whether he's misspelled anything... This really is the two of you sticking to your old trade!"
Mrs. Miller turned and left after saying that. Schiller muttered to himself, "Mrs. Miller is the true lady of Arkham. Terrifying..."
Schiller had only been sitting on the sofa for a short while when the phone behind the glass partition wall rang again. He picked it up, only to hear an unfamiliar voice on the other end. "Hello, Professor Schiller. I have some questions about psychology that I'd like to ask