Wife.—Now tell me, how came you to be sitting there?
Servant.—It was master's order that I should take his place; and so, although it was most repugnant to me, there was no alternative but for me to sit down, and I did so.
Wife.—Naturally. Now I want to ask you to do me a good turn. Will you?
Servant.—Pray, what may it be?
Wife.—Why, just simply this: you will arrange the blanket on top of me just as it was arranged on the top of you; won't you?
Servant.—Oh! your commands ought of course to be laid to heart; but I shall get such a scolding if the thing becomes known, that I would rather ask you to excuse me.
Wife.—No, no! I will not allow him to scold you; so you must really please arrange me.
Servant.—Please, please, let me off this time.
Wife.—No, no! you must arrange me, as I will not so much as let him point a finger at you.
Servant.—Well, then, if it comes to my getting a scolding, I count on you, ma'am, as an intercessor.