Carla (yay!) answers the phone with "Francis residence (boo)," and it's Glen, who lies that his name is "Stanley" and he has a question about homework. Sally takes the phone, and after hearing that Glen intends the call to be private, walks into the living room, at which point Glen tells her he's down the street at his mom's old place. He goes on to ask her why she hasn't moved, and Sally says she doesn't know, but she really hates it there now, as every time she goes around a corner, she hopes to see her dad and is disappointed. Glen, with that special kind of sympathy only a sociopath could muster, says he's sorry, but while her parents aren't going to get back together, he promises her that one day, Betty and Henry will wake up and want to move. "You'll see." After they disconnect, Carla asks who Stanley is, but Sally merely replies, "A boy." Carla's knowing smile suggests she believes "Stanley" is a simple, normal crush, and I used to think she was almost omniscient, but girl, please.
In the SCDP conference room, the principals are entertaining a pitch from a consumer-research company, one of whose representatives is apparently an old friend of Bertram's. Said rep babbles a bit about the quality of their consumer evaluations before turning it over to a blonde woman, "Dr. Faye Miller," whom he credits with helping to develop the standard for feminine hygiene ads -- "the carefree gal in white pants." If you want your day brightened, indulge me and go back and check out the reaction shots from Joan and Peggy. Dr. Miller, however, offers some welcome self-deprecating humor before handing out a questionnaire she explains is their tool for assessing what subjects will provide the best market research. She also encourages everyone to take a cookie from a jar on the table, but Harry, whose sunburn at least has turned to tan, asks what it means if they refuse. Dr. Miller: "That you're a psychopath." I'm starting to like her. Moving on from such pointless things as Harry Crane, she further explains that the questions are designed to get at what subjects actually want, rather than what they say they do, and gives an example -- "How would you describe your father?" She goes on to add that no matter what the response, the question creates a level of intimacy for the next one, but Don's way too immersed in thoughts of how to sum up Archibald Whitman ("belt-wielding" comes to mind) to notice. Everyone gets started (Harry dorkily covering his answers with his hand; I guess he's the only joke character now that Paul's gone), but Don, after sharing a knowing look with Peggy, gets up and takes his leave by way of explaining that he has an appointment. Dr. Miller watches him go, but what she's thinking is anyone's guess. For now.