Jerome K. Jerome

“ Korner? The fault—so he bitterly told himself—the fault was his. “A woman loves her master; it is her instinct,” mused Mr. Korner to himself. “Damme,” thought Mr. Korner, “I don't believe that half her time she knows I am her master.” ”

“ Korner, “for letting himself go occasionally.”
“My dear—”
“You, Christopher, would be all the better for letting yourself go—occasionally.”
“I wish,” said Mr. Korner, as he passed his empty cup, “you would not say things you do not mean. Anyone hearing you—”
“If there's one thing makes me more angry than another,” said Mrs. Korner, “it is being told I say things that I do not mean.”
“Why say them then?” suggested Mr. Korner.
“I don't. I do—I mean I do mean them,” explained Mrs. Korner. ”

“ Korner, “and I am very fond of him. It is just because I am fond of him that I hate feeling ashamed of him. I want him to be a manly man, to do the things that other men do.”
“Do all the ordinary sort of men swear and get occasionally drunk?”
“Of course they do,” asserted Mrs. Korner, in a tone of authority. “One does not want a man to be a milksop.”
“Have you ever seen a drunken man?” inquired the bosom friend, who was nibbling sugar. ”

“ Korner's voice.
“Swearin'! 'E! Why, 'e don't know any.”
“Thank you,” said Mrs. Korner. “That will do, Harriet; you may go.”
Mrs Korner put down the teapot with a bang. “The very girl,” said Mrs. Korner bitterly, “the very girl despises him.”
“Perhaps,” suggested Miss Greene, “he had been swearing and had finished.”
But Mrs. Korner was not to be comforted. “Finished! Any other man would have been swearing all the time.”
“Perhaps,” suggested the kindly bosom friend, ever the one to plead the cause of the transgressor, “perhaps he was swearing, and she did not hear him. ”

“ Korner, for the third time, reseating herself a minute later at the table. “I would give anything—anything,” reiterated the lady recklessly, “to see Christopher more like the ordinary sort of man.”
“But he has always been the sort—the sort of man he is,” her bosom friend reminded her.
“Oh, during the engagement, of course, one expects a man to be perfect. I didn't think he was going to keep it up.”
“He seems to me,” said Miss Greene, “a dear, good fellow. You are one of those people who never know when they are well off.” ”

“ Korner.
“I really do not think,” said the bosom friend, “that I have ever laughed so much in all my life.”
“It was amusing. I laughed myself,” admitted Mr. Korner. “At the same time I cannot help thinking that to treat drunkenness as a theme—”
“He wasn't drunk,” argued Mrs. Korner, “he was just jovial.”
“My dear!” Mr. Korner corrected her, “he simply couldn't stand.”
“He was much more amusing than some people who can,” retorted Mrs. Korner.
“It is possible, my dear Aimee,” her husband pointed out to her, “for a man to be amusing without being drunk ”

“ Mr. Korner allowed himself to be persuaded into the dining-room, which was also the breakfast parlour and the library. The two ladies, joined by the hastily clad staff, whose chronic indignation seemed to have vanished in face of the first excuse for it that Acacia Villa had afforded her, made haste to light the kitchen fire.
“I should never have believed it,” whispered the white-faced Mrs. Korner, “never.”
“Makes yer know there's a man about the 'ouse, don't it?” chirped the delighted staff. Mrs. Korner, for answer, boxed the girl's ears ”

“ Mrs. Korner was the type of young lady fond of domineering with a not un-graceful hauteur over those accustomed to yield readily to her; it is a type that is easily frightened.
“I wan' grilled kinneys-on-toast,” explained Mr. Korner, exchanging the knocker for the hat-stand, and wishing the next moment that he had not. “Don' let's 'avareytalk about it. Unnerstan'? I dowan' any talk about it.”
“What on earth am I to do?” whispered the terrified Mrs. Korner to her bosom friend, “there isn't a kidney in the house.”
“I should poach him a couple of eggs,” suggested the helpful bosom friend ”

“ It is a long journey from the city to Ravenscourt Park, but the task of planning out the future life of Mrs. Korner and himself kept Mr. Korner wide awake and interested. When he got out of the train the thing chiefly troubling him was the three-quarters of a mile of muddy road stretching between him and his determination to make things clear to Mrs. Korner then and there.
The sight of Acacia Villa, suggesting that everybody was in bed and asleep, served to further irritate him. A dog-like wife would have been sitting up to see if there was anything he wanted. Mr. ”

“ I think, if you manage it properly, it will be the best day's work you have ever done. Get out of the house before she wakes. I shall say nothing to her. Indeed, I shall not have the time; I must catch the ten o'clock from Paddington. When you come home this evening, you talk first ”