“It—it was an accident,” stammered Tom.
“Oh. Then you don’t want me?”
“No, sir.”
“Is anything the matter?”
“No, Mr. Simond.”
“Then what are you doing up on this floor? You’re Parsons, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you room on the floor below?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then what are you doing up here at this hour of the night; knocking at my door?”