Page:Christopher Morley--Tales from a rolltop desk.djvu/182

Let's see, how was it? He had said: "I'm sorry, dearest; I shall have to be rather late tonight. The head of my department is away, and I've got an extra lot of work to do." She said: "Oh, dear—oh, dear! Then we sha'n't be able to go to the theatre, shall we?" He said: "We can go next week, Brownie." She said: "Something horrid always happens when we have this coffee-urn on the table."

(N. B. Right here, when the danger topic was introduced, he should have put on an extra soft pedal. But did he? Not a bit. As soon as the urn was mentioned his eyes began to flash.)

"Well," he said, "don't let's have it on so often!" She said: "Any one might think you were jealous of it. It's the only handsome piece of silver I've got."

Here he did make one honest effort to steer away from danger:

"I'm awfully sorry about to-night, honey, but the work's just got to be done." She said: "Why didn't you let me know sooner you were going to work late? I could have arranged to go and see Mother." He said: "Oh, well, everything I do is always wrong, anyway! I suppose if I could buy you a roomful of silver like that old tureen, you wouldn't mind."