When his wife came into the room she smelt round for an instant.

Then she said: "What is it?
Tell me the worst." I said: "It's cheeses.

Tom bought them in Liverpool, and asked me to bring them up with me." And I added that I hoped she understood that it had nothing to do with me; and she said that she was sure of that, but that she would speak to Tom about it when he came back.
My friend was detained in Liverpool longer than he expected; and, three days later, as he hadn't returned home, his wife called on me.

She said: "What did Tom say about those cheeses ?" I replied that he had directed they were to be kept in a moist place, and that nobody was to touch them.
She said: "Nobody's likely to touch them.

Had he smelt them ?" I thought he had, and added that he seemed greatly attached to them.
"You think he would be upset," she queried, "if I gave a man a sovereign to take them away and bury them ?" I answered that I thought he would never smile again.
An idea struck her.