A Catastrophe — H.G. Wells

"Tea, dear," said Mrs. Winslow, opening the door with the glass window and the white blind that communicated with the parlour. "One minute," said Winslow, and began unlocking the desk. An irritable old gentleman, very hot and red about the face, and in a heavy fur-lined cloak, came in noisily. Mrs. Winslow vanished. "Ugh " said the old gentleman. "Pocket-handkerchief." "Yes, sir," said Winslow. "About what price"- "Ugh " said the old gentleman. "Poggit-handkerchief, quig "