The door opened.

"Sorry I am late," said Mr. Korner, bursting cheerfully into the room.
It was a point with Mr. Korner always to be cheerful in the morning.
"Greet the day with a smile and it will leave you with a blessing,"
was the motto Mrs. Korner, this day a married woman of six months and
three weeks standing had heard her husband murmur before getting out
of bed on precisely two hundred and two occasions. The Motto entered
largely into the scheme of Mr. Korner's life. Written in fine
copperplate upon cards all of the same size, a choice selection
counselled him each morning from the rim of his shaving-glass.

"Did you find it?" asked Mrs. Korner.

"It is most extraordinary," replied Mr. Korner, as he seated himself
at the breakfast-table. "I saw it go under the bed with my own eyes.
Perhaps--"

"Don't ask me to look for it," interrupted Mrs. Korner. "Crawling
about on their hands and knees, knocking their heads against iron
bedsteads, would be enough to make some people swear." The emphasis
was on the "some."

"It is not bad training for the character," hinted Mr. Korner,
"occasionally to force oneself to perform patiently tasks
calculated--"

"If you get tied up in one of those long sentences of yours, you will
never get out in time to eat your breakfast," was the fear of Mrs.
Korner.