with a shade of venom in his voice, scanning me and my attire with a sort of insolent compassion.

“Oh, spare his blushes,” cried Ferfitchkin, sniggering.

“My dear sir, allow me to tell you I am not blushing,” I broke out at last; “do you hear? I am dining here, at this cafe, at my own expense, not at other people's--note that, Mr. Ferfitchkin.”

“Wha-at? Isn't every one here dining at his own expense? You would seem to be ...” Ferfitchkin flew out at me, turning as red as a lobster, and looking me in the face with fury.

“Tha-at,” I answered, feeling I had gone too far, “and I imagine it would be better to talk of something more intelligent.”