Sheldn, always quite the cinephile, and Myrna, were walking along a local side street one cold frosty afternoon, when they espied quite a lovely plant, covered with frost.
“It’s just like Mr. Andrew Crocker-Harris”, he noted.
“What makes you say that, baby?” she wondered.
“In ‘The Browning Version'” Sheldn replied, “Crocker-Harris was all erudition and no simple common decency. The youngsters in his class compared him to Himmler. That’s what happens to a guy who just doesn’t get it.”
She understood his point and doted upon his ability to see it that way.
“I do love my egghead!” she sighed.