What, oh, what was
the use of trying?...
"Ah, Mr. Queed--well met! Won't you stop in and see me a little while?
You're enormously busy, I know--but possibly I can find something to
interest you in my poor little collection of books."
Nicolovius, coming up the stairs, had met Queed coming down, pad in
hand. The impertinence of the old professor's invitation fitted superbly
with the bitterness of the little Doctor's humor. It pressed the
martyr's crown upon his brow till the perfectness of his grudge against
a hateful world lacked nor jot nor tittle.
"Oh, certainly! Certainly!" he replied, with the utmost indignation.
Nicolovius, bowing courteously, pushed open the door.
It was known in the boarding-house that the remodeling of the Second
Hall Back into a private bathroom for Nicolovius had been done at his
own expense, and rumor had it that for his two rooms--his "suite," as
Mrs. Paynter called it--he paid down the sum of eighteen dollars weekly.
The bed-sitting-room into which he now ushered his guest was the
prettiest room ever seen by Mr. Queed, who had seen few pretty rooms in
his life.
Pages:
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200