“Well, Baron,” he said, “I trust you are comfortable in these excellent quarters.”
The Baron, half awake and wholly astonished, was unable to collect his ideas in time to make any reply.
“But remember,” continued Mr Bunker, “you have a reputation to live up to. I have set the standard high for Bavarian barons.”
The indignant Baron at last recovered his wits.
“If you do not go away at vonce,” he said, raising himself on his elbows, “I shall raise ze house upon you!”
“Have you forgotten that you are talking to a dangerous lunatic, who probably never stirs without his razor?”
The Baron looked at him and turned a little pale. He made no further movement, but answered stoutly enough, “Vat do you vant?”
“In the first place, I want my brush and comb, a few clothes, and my hand-bag. Events happened rather more quickly this evening than I had anticipated.”
“Take zem.”
“I should also like,” continued Mr Bunker, unmoved, “to have a little talk with you. I think I owe you some explanation—perhaps an apology or two—and I’m afraid it’s my last chance.”