You _are_ in the
way, if you want the truth. And," he added, clenching his hands,
"you can think yourself lucky that you're getting out with a whole
skin, da--confound you!"
Mr. Jelnik smiled so sweetly that I was terrified.
"Oh, a whole skin!" he repeated, thoughtfully. "My good sir, I was
born with a whole skin, and I rather expect to die with one." He
looked at The Author reflectively: "Of course, I don't know what
Miss Smith's feelings may be in regard to you, _but_ if I thought
you were seriously annoying her, I give you my word I should pitch
you out of the window without further ado. Miss Smith," he turned to
me, his eyes gentling with compassion, "I am more sorry than I can
say that you should be called upon to endure this further strain.
You will, I trust, forgive my unwilling share in it. Now, shall I
leave you?"
"No, stay," said I, flatly.
Mr. Jelnik sat down, and with unruffled composure, waited for The
Author to unbosom himself further.
"Miss Smith," The Author spoke after a pause,--and oh, I give him
credit for his courage at that trying moment!--"Miss Smith, I have
placed myself, and you also, in what appears to be rather an absurd
position.
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