"
"Nothing of the kind!"
"Everything--up there--worries me so! Monkey's room right over mine.
My ceiling so full of soft footsteps that frighten me. I
know your footsteps, Getaway, just as well as anything. The
ball-of-your-foot--squeak! The-ball-of-your-foot--squeak!"
"Well, that's a good one! The-ball-of-me-foot--squeak!"
"Everybody tiptoeing! Muggs! Somebody's stocking feet! Monkey's. Steps
that aren't honest. All on my ceiling. Monkey never ought to have rented
a room in a respectable house like Mrs. Granady's. Nobody but genteel
young fellows holding down genteel jobs ever had that room before.
Monkey passing himself off as Mr. James Pollard, or whatever it is he
calls himself, just for the cover of a respectable house--or of me, for
all I know. You could have knocked me down with a feather the first time
I met him in the hall. If I did right I'd squeal."
"You would, like hell."
"Of course I wouldn't, but with Mrs. Granady trying to run a respectable
house, only the right kind of young fellows and girls rooming there,
it's not fair.
Pages:
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158