“Yes, I know,” she said. “I knew before you came.”
“May I beg,” I replied, “that you won’t interrupt me.”
She was silent and I continued.
“And one of my tears,” I said, “fell on Mr. Chrysostom.”
“Oh dear,” she said. “Poor Mr. Chrysostom.”
“So I apologized,” I said.
“Quite right,” she said.
“But not to Mr. Chrysostom,” I said. “I apologized to the moisture.”
“To the moisture?” she said. “What moisture?”
“Why, to the moisture,” I explained, “of the tear.”