As he spoke these words he was ghastly to look upon; his pale lips quivered, his dark eyes glittered in his sallow face, and were again riveted with an indescribable expression upon the old bureau.
His insolence aroused my indignation, but I forced myself to reply to him calmly.
"I must beg you to speak more courteously," I answered, suppressing my detestation. "If you conceive that there has been an infringement of your rights, it is not to me that you must appeal, but to Frau Franzka. She told me that this old bureau was never used by you, and that you would be glad to have so superfluous a piece of furniture removed from your room. Only upon her assurance that this was the case did I consent to have it brought hither."
My reply seemed to quiet him somewhat. He lowered his voice as he continued:
"You see that I do use it. The upper drawer is locked."
He went up to the bureau and pulled the metal handles of the upper drawer. Upon finding that it would not open, he breathed more freely and turned to me again, with a wholly different expression of countenance.
"Excuse my rude manner," he suddenly said, in a very friendly way; "I was angry. It irritated me that the furniture of my room should be meddled with. The old bureau serves me as a receptacle for old clothes. I must therefore beg that it be returned to me."
"It was delivered to me by its owner, Frau Franzka. I have no authority over its removal."
"You refuse?" he said, flaming up again; but he mastered himself, only giving me a sinister look, as he opened the door and called loudly into the hall:
"Frau Franzka! Frau Franzka!"