exasperated missis said anything to him straight, he would look shocked, and reply, as likely as not—
'Why, my good woman, you must be mad! I'm your husband's guest!'
And if she wouldn't cook for him, he'd cook for himself.
There was no choking him off. Few people care to call the police in a case like this; and besides, as before remarked, Steelman knew his men. The only way to escape from him was to move—but then, as likely as not, he'd help pack up and come along with his portmanteau right on top of the last load of furniture, and drive you and your wife to the verge of madness by the calm style in which he proceeded to superintend the hanging of your pictures.
Once he quartered himself like this on an old schoolmate of his, named Brown, who had got married and steady and settled down. Brown tried all ways to get rid of Steelman, but he couldn't do it. One day Brown said to Steelman:
'Look here, Steely, old man, I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid we won't be able to accommodate you any longer—to make you comfortable, I mean. You see, a sister of the missis is coming down on a visit for a month or two, and we ain't got anywhere to put her, except in your room. I wish the missis's relations to blazes! I didn't marry the whole blessed family; but it seems I've got to keep them.'
Pause—very awkward and painful for poor Brown. Discouraging silence from Steelman. Brown rested his elbows on his knees, and, with a pathetic and appealing movement of his hand across his forehead, he continued desperately:
