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Observer, Volume XXXIX, Issue 49, 9 August 1919, Page 7

A breathless interlude to the ordinary game of married life nearly threw a young matron into hysterics on one of the most respectable streets of a most reputable suburb a few nights ago. As Charles Garvice might say, "The night was dark and stormy, and the beauteous damsel, as she stepped off a car, was bewildered by the dark shadow of a strange man running towards her." The lady had no penchant for risque flirtations, not at dead of night, anyhow, so she just naturally didn't stop to enquire, but gathered np her garments and fled. A frightened jerk of the head showed the pursuer still pursuing, and shrouded in the darkness the form seemed strange and terrible. Not once did the lady stop, nor stay, till she reached her own home gate. A fumble at the latch, and the piirsuer was upon her. A breathless gasp, a sharp intake of the breath and then—"Ch, George,' how you frighten mo!" The awful man was her husband, ■who thought he had better come out and escort his wife home.