Housecall

Mr. Pritt didn't like to be interrupted in his study at any hour, particularly after dinner, and doubly so when he was peeking at his collection of secret photographs, the ones he kept hidden in his desk in a plain folder labeled "Financial Accounting." When Melinda opened the door and stuck her head in, he became quite flustered.

"What's the meaning of this, Mel?" he demanded as he squirmed uncomfortably, trying to hide the bawdiest of the photographs behind his back. "You know better than to come barging in here like that."

"I'm sorry, dear, but it's Molly. She's got a stomach ache. I'm worried," his wife warbled at him, pretending not to notice that he was red-faced and sweating. "We should send for a doctor."

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