“I’m reading now, dearest.”
“Oh yes.” And then another five minutes.
“Thyrsis, do you spell choke with an a?”
At which Thyrsis would put down the paper. “Tell me, Corydon—isn’t there something I can do so that you won’t interrupt me?”
Instantly a look of pain would sweep across her face. “Do you have to speak to me like that, Thyrsis? If you’d only just tell me, kindly and pleasantly—”
“But I’ve told you three or four times!’
“Thyrsis! How can you say that?”
“But didn’t I?”
“Why, of course not!”
And then they would have an argument. He would bring up each case and confront her with it; and how very unloving a procedure was that—and how exasperating was his manner as he did it!