"What's the number of your room?"
"I see."
"Well--what is it?"
"What is what?"
"What is what! Why, what's the number of your room?"
"Precisely."
"Well, you haven't told me what it is."
"No."
"Aren't you going to tell me?"
"I am afraid that I must wish you good-night." Rising, Mr. Paxton moved towards the door. Turning in his chair, the stranger stared at him with an air of grievance.