“Do you know who I am?”
The baron leaned forward and stared.
“Iss dare somedings pefore mine eyes? I am in sooch a bevildermendt dot I ton’dt know nottings blainly.”
“You got a crack on the head when the elevator stopped; I guess that’s what’s the matter with you. There was a piece of timber loose in that elevator, and it fell down on you.”
“T’anks vor der misinformadion,” the baron grunted incredulously.
“But the question is, What was you doin’ in that elevator?”
“I ditn’t knowed idt vos one.”
“Well, you know now; and by buttin’ in where you had no business you got yerself in this fix.”
The German, feeling his way back to clearer thought, did not answer this.