"If you like," said he.

"Then you don't care for it? You think it's ridiculous?" said she
anxiously, when she had sat down.

He replied, standing in front of her:

"You know that Oxford Concise Dictionary that I bought just before the
war? Where is it?"

"Arthur!" she said. "What's the matter with you? You look so queer. I
suppose the dictionary's where you keep it. _I_ never touch it."

"I want you to be sure to remind me to cross the word 'economy' out of
it to-night. In fact I think I'd better tear out the whole page."

"Arthur!" she exclaimed again. "Are you ill? Has anything serious
happened? I warn you I can't stand much more to-day."

"Something very serious has happened," answered the incorrigible Mr.
Prohack. "It may be all for the best; it may be all for the worst.
Depends how you look at it. Anyway I'm determined to tell you. Of course
I shouldn't dream of telling anybody else until I'd told you." He seated
himself by her side. There was just space enough for the two of them on
the sofa.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Mrs. Prohack, with apprehension, and instinctively
she stretched her arm out and extinguished one of the lights.