Galusha declared that he didn't mind the mittens and the rest, but she insisted and he hastily divested himself of his wrappings, dropping them upon the floor as the most convenient repository and being greatly fussed when Miss Phipps picked them up and laid them on the table.
“I—I beg your pardon,” he stammered. “Really, I DON'T know why I am so thoughtless. I—I should be—ah—hanged or something, I think. Then perhaps I wouldn't do it again.”
Martha shook her head. “You probably wouldn't in that case,” she said. “Now, Mr. Bangs, I'm going to try to get at that matter I wanted to ask your opinion about. Do you know anything about stocks—stockmarket stocks, I mean?”
Her lodger looked rather bewildered.
“Dear me, no; not a thing,” he declared.
She did not look greatly disappointed.
“I didn't suppose you did,” she said. “You—well, you don't look like a man who would know much about such things. And from what I've seen of you, goodness knows, you don't ACT like one! Perhaps I shouldn't say that,” she added, hastily. “I didn't mean it just as it sounded.”
“Oh, that's all right, that's all right, Miss Phipps. I know I am a—ah—donkey in most matters.”
“You're a long way from bein' a donkey, Mr. Bangs. And I didn't say you were, of course. But—oh, well, never mind that. So you don't know anything about stocks and investments and such?”
“No, I don't. I am awfully sorry. But—but, you see, all that sort of thing is so very distasteful to me. It bores me—ah—dreadfully. And so I—I dodge it whenever I can.”