The tensions of life were threatening to get a strangle hold on Bill, and after he'd finished a good dinner, he relaxed mindlessly in a soft chair next to the stereo, with a stiff drink in his hand. His wife knew nothing of his nervous state, and she climbed onto his lap with the thought of trying to wheedle a fur coat out of him, and snuggled and murmured and fondled.
"Good heavens, Ethel," he exploded, "get off of me! I get enough of this at the office."
