The deathbed confession

     Becky was on her deathbed, with her husband Jake at her side. He held 
     her cold hand and tears silently streamed down his face. Her pale lips 
     moved. "Jake," she said. "Hush," he quickly inter- rupted, "don't 
     talk."
     
     But she insisted. "Jake," she said in her tired voice. "I have to 
     talk. I must confess."
     
     "There is nothing to confess," said the weeping Jake. "It's all right. 
     Everything's all right."
     
     "No, no. I must die in peace. I must confess, Jake, that I have been 
     unfaithful to you."
     
     Jake stroked her hand. "Now Becky, don't be concerned. I know all 
     about it," he sobbed. "Why else would I poison you?"