I'm afraid I splashed her a bit when I was trying to
revive her. I thought best to bring her here and give her a
stimulant. She didn't want to stagger home and alarm the whole
household unnecessarily."
"Is this true?" The Author asked me, rudely.
"You heard what Mr. Jelnik said!" I flamed.
"One allows somewhat more license to genius than might be accorded
ordinary mortals; but really, you know, there are limits," Mr.
Jelnik reminded him. "You're beginning to be rather a nuisance. It's
unfortunate to have to remind a man, in one's own house, that he's a
nuisance."
"I think you are, too!" I told The Author--"bursting into people's
houses like an East-Side policeman, asking outrageous questions in
an outrageous manner, and then questioning the answers one is
patient enough to give you! What right have you got to ask _any_
questions?"
"I'd rather like to know that, myself," put in Mr. Jelnik.
The Author straightened his shoulders, drew himself up to his full
height, and folded his arms. He is an impressively tall man.
"Should you?" said he, quietly. "Well, I'll tell you--the right of
an honest man to protect the woman he happens to want to marry.
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