"Well then," Niebeldingk exclaimed, overcome with astonishment, "if
that's the case, what are you after?"

"I?" the old gentleman quavered and pointed a funereal glove at his
breast, "I? Oh, dear sakes alive! I'm not after anything. Do you
imagine, my dear sir, that I get any fun out of tramping up and down
in front of your house on my old legs? I'd rather sit in a corner and
leave strange people to their own business. But what can I do? I live
in my sister's house, and I do pay her a little board, for I'd never
take a present, not a penny--that was never my way. But what I pay
isn't much, you know, and so I have to make myself a bit useful in the
boarding-house. The ladies have little errands, you know. And they're
quite nice, too, except that they get as nasty as can be if their
rooms aren't promptly cleaned in the morning, and so I help with the
dusting, too ... If only it weren't for my asthma ... I tell, you,
asthma, my dear sir--"

He stopped for an attack of coughing choked him.

With a sudden kindly emotion Niebeldingk regarded the terrible avenger
in horror of whom he had lived four mortal days. He told him to
stretch his poor old legs and asked him whether he'd like a glass
of Madeira.

The old gentleman's face brightened. If it would surely give no
trouble he would take the liberty of accepting.

Niebeldingk rang and John entered with a grand inquisitorial air. He
recoiled when he saw the monster so comfortable and, for the first