To myself I sat repeating—“If I answer to the door—
Rise to let the ruffian in who seems to want to burst the door,
I’ll be ——” that and something more.
Presently the row grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Really, Mister Johnson, blow it!—your forgiveness I implore,
Such an observation letting slip, but when a man’s just getting
Into bed, you come upsetting nerves and posts of chambers door,
Making such a row, forgetting”—Spoke a voice beyond the door:
“’Tisn’t Johnson”—nothing more!
Quick a perspiration clammy bathed me, and I uttered “Dammy!”