“You came hammering at the door—”
“Yes, yes, I remember that. I wanted my supper, and you poached me a couple of eggs. What happened after that?”
The recollection of that crowning indignity lent to her voice the true note of tragedy.
“You made me say my tables—my nine times!”
Mr. Korner looked at Mrs. Korner, and Mrs. Korner looked at Mr. Korner, and for a while there was silence.
“Were you—were you really a little bit on,” faltered Mrs. Korner, “or only pretending?”
“Really,” confessed Mr. Korner. “For the first time in my life. If you are content, for the last time also.”
“I am sorry,” said Mrs. Korner, “I have been very silly. Please forgive me.”