But her husband was grave. He had not the heart to find mirth even in her naughtiness.

“Yuki,” he said, “you must be serious for a moment and listen to me.”

“I listenin’, Mr. Solemn-Angery-Patch!” She meant “Cross-patch.” “You loog lige—”

“Where did you go?”

“Oh, jus’ liddle bit visit.”

“Where did you go?” he repeated, insistently.

“Sa-ay, I forgitting.”

“Answer me.”

She pretended to think, and then suddenly to remember, sighing hypocritically the while.

“I lige forgitting,” she said.