“No, sir,” I answered, in surprise.
“You haven’t the right to remain covered in the presence of the king?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, I’m king here. What the blazes do you mean by standing in a private room with your hat on?”
I plucked it off, tingling.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Mr. Straw brought me in so suddenly, I lost my head and my cap went with it, I suppose. But I see it’s not the only thing one may lose here, including tempers!” And with that I turned on my heel and was about to beat a retreat, fuming.
“Come back!” shouted Mr. Ripley. “If you go now, you go for good!”
I hesitated; the memory of my late comrade restored my equilibrium.
“I didn’t mean to be rude, sir,” I said. “I shall be grateful to you if you will give me work.”
He had condescended to turn now, and was looking full at me with frowning eyes, but with no sign of anger on his face.