He pitched his half-smoked cigarette into the fireplace and frowned at the window.
“Now he’s accusing me,” thought Andreas. “That’s the second time this morning—first mother and now this man taking advantage of my sensitiveness.” He could not trust himself to speak, and rang the bell for the servant girl.
“Clear away the breakfast things,” he ordered. “I can’t have them messing about on the table till dinner!”
“Don’t be hard on the girl,” coaxed Doctor Erb. “She’s got twice the work to do to-day.”
At that Binzer’s anger blazed out.
“I’ll trouble you, Doctor, not to interfere between me and my servants!” And he felt a fool at the same moment for not saying “servant.”
Doctor Erb was not perturbed. He shook his head, thrust his hands into his pockets, and began balancing himself on toe and heel.
“You’re jagged by the weather,” he said wryly, “nothing else. A great pity—this storm. You know climate has an immense effect upon birth. A fine day perks a woman—gives her heart for her business. Good weather is as necessary to a confinement as it is to a washing day. Not bad—that last remark of mine—for a professional fossil, eh?”
Andreas made no reply.
“Well, I’ll be getting back to my patient. Why don’t you take a walk, and clear your head? That’s the idea for you.”