"You've crossed the knives. Separate them; it's terribly unlucky."
Again George obeyed.
"It's made me quite nervous," said Mrs. Early, pouring out the coffee. "I'm sure something is going to happen. There!" as a spoon slipped off the table, "a stranger's coming!"
George looked across the table into the wide-open eyes of his wife.
"I know," he said intelligently: "it's the sweep; these chimneys are in a terrible state. I told Martha about it the other day."
"It isn't the sweep," said Mrs. Early; "its a stranger who brings bad news. Something's happened."
George pondered for a moment, and then said—
"It must be that hat you sent to the milliner. Shop burnt out, I expect."
"It's worse than that," said Mrs. Early, pressing one hand cautiously to her heart. "I can feel it."
"You're right," said George, as he opened a letter brought in by Martha. "It's worse than that."