Then, of course, he would scold. He had certain phrases—“How perfectly unspeakable! Perfectly paralyzing!” How she hated these phrases!
“I had somany things to get!” she would exclaim.
“But only one thing for me, Corydon!”
“Everything is for you—just as much as for myself! All these groceries—look at the bundles! I haven’t had a single moment—”
“But how many moments does it take to buy anewspaper?”
“But Thyrsis—”
“And how many times would I have to tell you? Have I got to go into town myself, just for the sake of a newspaper?”
“I tell you I tried my very best to remember it—”
“But what’s the matter with you? Is your mind getting weak?”
And then like as not Corydon would burst into tears. “Oh, I think you are a brute!” she would cry. “A perfect brute!”
Or else, perhaps, she would
