Tina was on her deathbed, with her husband Mike at her side.
He held her cold hand as silent tears streamed down his face.
"Mike," she said weakly.
"Hush my darling," he interrupted, "don't talk, save your strength."
But she insisted, "Mike, before I die, there's something that I have to confess."
"There is nothing to confess," said the weeping husband. "It's all right. Everything's all right."
"No, no. I must die in peace. I must confess that I have been unfaithful to you."
He stroked her hand, "Now, Tina, don't be concerned. I know all about it."
"You do?" she gasped.
"Sure darling, why else would I poison you?"