"I'm not. Far from it."

"Then what d'yer mean coming 'ere saying you want my first-floor back?"

"But I do. Or any other room, if that is occupied."

"'Ow! _Room_? Why didn't yer siy so? You'll pawdon me, sir, if
I've said anything 'asty-like. I thought--but my mistake."

"Not at all. Can you let me have a room? I notice that the gentleman
whom I have just seen----"

She cut me short. I was about to explain that I was a Bohemian, too.

"'E's gorn for a stroll, sir. I expec' him back every moment. 'E's
forgot 'is latchkey. Thet's why I'm sitting up for 'im. Mrs. Driver my
name is, sir. That's my name, and well known in the neighbour'ood."

Mrs. Driver spoke earnestly, but breathlessly.

"I do not contemplate asking you, Mrs. Driver, to give me the
apartments already engaged by the literary gentleman----"

"Yes, sir," she interpolated, "that's wot 'e wos, I mean is. A literary
gent."

"But have you not another room vacant?"

"The second-floor back, sir. Very comfortable, nice room, sir. Shady in
the morning, and gets the setting sun."