"I'm afraid you can." Then he took my manuscripts from me, and put them in his pocket.
It was late now, for it had taken me some time to read my stories, but he did not show any signs of going. He was sitting in our one big chair, smoking, with his legs stretched out in front of him, and although his eyes were half closed, he was watching me constantly. I began to yawn, because I was becoming sleepy. He said he supposed I wanted him to get out. I said no, I didn't; but my landlady probably did. She didn't mind our having men callers as long as they went before midnight. It was nearly that now. He said:
"Damn the landlady!" just as he had said, "Damn the new man!" Then he added, "You're not going to be run by every one, you know."
I said mischievously:
"Just by you?"
"Just by me," he replied.
"But when you stay away so long—"
It irritated him for me to refer to that. He said that there were certain matters I wouldn't understand that had kept him in Richmond, and that he had come as soon as he could. He added that he was involved in some lawsuit, and that he was being watched, and had to be "careful." I couldn't see why he should be watched because of a lawsuit, and I asked:
"Would you be arrested?"
He threw back his head and laughed, and said I was a "queer little thing," and then, after a while, he said very seriously: