When I mentioned my prejudice to Bob Corwin only the other day he fairly jumped on me.
"Disapprove of it!" he said, "Great Scott, no! I wouldn't have it different for the world. Why, it was as good as a circus this morning to watch and listen to my wife when her collar button rolled under the dresser."
It was this same good little wife of Bob's who made something of a mistake a while back.
They had a pretty maid at their house, and perhaps Bob, quite naturally, let his eyes follow her a few times in an absent-minded way.
Men frequently do that, you know—don't mean anything wrong at all, and just simply—well, look.
Of course his better half noticed it.
Now, she was no more jealous than the majority of her sex, but somehow she foolishly began to suspect that he was in the habit of kissing the girl in the kitchen and was determined to catch him in the act.
One Saturday night she saw him pass quietly into the kitchen.