"How can I believe you," said my wife reproachfully, "when the very moment before I swooned away I saw your eyes almost starting out of your head with fright."
"Oh, well," I said, "I suppose I have as much right to fancy things as you."
"Of course you have, and it was very considerate of you to deny that you saw anything. He is the best husband in the world, Mr. Millet, and if he thinks I don't appreciate him he is mistaken."
"Now, my dear," I said soothingly, "you know I don't think anything of the sort; if I am the best husband in the world, so are you the best wife in the world. What do you say to our going in for the flitch of bacon?"
"It is all very well to make a laughing matter of it," said my wife seriously. "I will ask Mr. Millet this plain question. He may say, like you, that it is all fancy; but pray how does he account for the opening of a locked door?"
"I told you," I interposed before Bob could speak, "that I must have been mistaken in supposing I had locked it."
"Very good. But the door was shut if it was not locked."
"I don't deny that it was."
"How did it come open, then?"
"I told you that, too," I replied. "The wind."