"I'm coming back with you to fetch my husband." "He's very sleepy," explained Mrs.X.
"I've known him to be that before," replied Mrs.Y., as she fastened on her cloak.
"But where's Percy ?" sobbed poor little Mrs.X., as they descended the stairs together.
"That my dear," said Mrs.Y., "will be a question for you to ask _him_." "If they go about making mistakes like this," said Mrs.X., "it is impossible to say what they may not have done with him." "We will make enquiries in the morning, my dear," said Mrs.Y., consolingly.
"I think these Kneipes are disgraceful affairs," said Mrs.X.

"I shall never let Percy go to another, never--so long as I live." "My dear," remarked Mrs.Y., "if you know your duty, he will never want to." And rumour has it that he never did.
But, as I have said, the mistake was in pinning the card to the tablecloth instead of to the coat.

And error in this world is always severely punished..