He looked across the tea-table at his pretty bride, hesitated, and then made up his mind to speak. “Darling,” he said, "I wish you wouldn’t make any more scones.” “Why?” she asked, a hurt look in her eyes. “Don’t you like my cooking?” “I do, indeed, my sweet, but you are too frail for such heavy work.”
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAITA19390215.2.70.1
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Wairarapa Times-Age, 15 February 1939, Page 6
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57Page 6 Advertisements Column 1 Wairarapa Times-Age, 15 February 1939, Page 6
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