“Leave the room!” she commanded, pointing with her angular arm towards the door.
I did not wish to remain. I was about to retire with as much dignity as circumstances permitted.
“Boy!” she added.
At that I turned. “Now I won't go!” I replied. “See if I do.”
We stood glaring at each other.
“What right have you in here?” she demanded.
“I came to see Mr. Deleglise,” I answered. “I suppose you are Miss Deleglise. It doesn't seem to me that you know how to treat a visitor.”
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Mr. Horace Moncrieff,” I replied. I was using at the period both my names indiscriminately, but for this occasion Horace Moncrieff I judged the more awe-inspiring.
She snorted. “I know. You're the house-maid. You sweep all the crumbs under the mats.”