Then I stood erect again, dashing the tears from my eyes. He pulled out his handkerchief.
“Don’t wet me,” he said.
“It was inadvertent,” I said.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied.
“And I apologize,” I said, “to the moisture.”
For a moment he gaped at me, and little wonder. It was perhaps the crushingest remark in human history.
“I apologize,” I said, “to the moisture.”
Yes, it must have cut him to the quick.
It was so crushing, indeed, that I repeated it to Miss Botterill.
“Miss Botterill,” I said, “I am leaving.”