"That's what I'm asking you. Please, George. I'm sorry about yesterday. I don't know what got into me. I never should have tried to hit you. A wife has no business trying to hit her husband."
"Nuts," George said. "You just thought you could get away with it, that's all. Now that you know you can't, you're trying to say you're sorry. Nuts."
Then he looked at Arl fondly. Arl was to thank for all this. If it hadn't been for Arl, he would still be henpecked. Myra didn't look like the type that would henpeck her husband, but George smiled ruefully at this thought. She was the type, and she did it every chance she got. Only she wouldn't do it anymore. Arl had been that catalyst. "Arl," George said, "I could love you like a brother."
"What about my wife?" Arl still wanted to know. "Where's my wife?"
"I told you, she went back. For some clothing, I think."
"Then she was sitting in your lap with no clothing on!" Myra said indignantly.
"Yes, she was."
"What was she doing in your lap with no clothing on?"
"You asked me that once."
"Please, George. What!"