He looked after me, with a scowl on his face:
"You need not put on airs! I understand the whole thing."
I said nothing, but continued to climb the stairs, thinking to myself: "Well, if you understand the whole thing, it is strange that you should put the widow of ex-President Abraham Lincoln in a three-cornered room in the attic of this miserable hotel."
When I reached Mrs. Lincoln's rooms, tears of humiliation and vexation were in my eyes.
"What is the matter, Lizzie?" she asked.
"I cannot get any dinner."
"Cannot get any dinner! What do you mean?"
I then told her of all that had transpired below.
"The insolent, overbearing people!" she fiercely exclaimed. "Never mind, Lizzie, you shall have your dinner. Put on your bonnet and shawl."
"What for?"