It Will be Fine Tomorrow
57
- Wife.—And as soon as it was finished, you asked me to play it all over again.
- Husband.—Yes, I admit it, but I assure you that it was not an excuse to lie in bed any longer. It was the fascinating melody of the violin breaking into my dreams so gently which filled me with intense happiness … even more than I had anticipated. But I am sorry to say that the impression only lasted for a few moments, for as I came to my senses, it gradually dawned on me that it was only my wife playing a phonograph near my bed. The idea of it was an utter disappointment, and I at once buried my head under the blankets.
- Wife.—You were crying a little then, weren’t you?
- Husband.—You thought so, did you? … Well, as a matter of fact, while you played the melody again I began to think about our happiness, our dreams, and about life.
- Wife.—You were very bright and happy during breakfast that morning.
- Husband.—Was I? … And you promised to put a record on for me every morning if it showed such good results … but I told you not to do so.
- Wife.—But it is funny that ever since that very morning you have learned to get up without having to be called twice … though quite recently you have got back into your old habit again.
- Husband.—Although you may not believe it, while I was hiding my head under the blankets, I was thinking profoundly … I realised how disgusting
