"Just for a minute, dear" Myrtle said, "I've got bad news, I'm afraid."

"Why, whatever's that, Myrtle" I said with some concern, waving her to the easy chair as I sank daintily onto the sofa across from it.

"Its that idiot--that hopelessly near-sighted husband of mine" Myrtle went on, "he's really torn it this time."

"Arnold?” I said, "Whatever did he do?”

"Notice anything missing, dear?" Myrtle asked, watching me cautiously for reaction as she spoke. I guess now that whatever Arnold had done it had something to do with my wig. I wondered what he wanted with my wig. Was it possible that he was a ...?

"It's Arnold's eyes, you know" Myrtle said, "He can't see a thing— with or without his glasses, really. I heard him going into all the apart- ments this morning and rummaging around and muttering and cursing and I wondered what he was up to."

"I suppose" - I said, still waiting for the punch line.

"Then" Myrtle said, "All of a sudden I heard him yell and come running out of your place. He was shouting 'I found it-I found the goddam thing!' and I wondered what he was yelling about. Of course, you're on the third floor and I was on the street floor outside our apart- ment."

"Sure, dear" I said, "Sounds like Arnold was upset."

"Nothing like he's going to be" Myrtle went on, “Anyway I looked up straight up through the stair railings to the third floor where I could see Arnold waving something in the air at the third floor landing and I called out 'What on earth are you yelling about that you found, Arnold?" "

"Of course, honey” I agreed, "What did Arnold say?”

"He said 'I found the mop you said I lost two weeks ago—that's what I found and it was in your friend's apartment' he meant you, dear. Well, just about that time I could see something coming down in the air but before I could get out of the way it hit me right in the face!"

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