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148
The Diary of a Nobody
·
George Grossmith Weedon Grossmith
29
Goodness
knows
I
felt
humiliated
enough
at
this;
but,
to
make
matters
worse,
Gowing
entered
the
room,
without
knocking,
with
two
hats
on
his
head
and
holding
the
garden-rake
in
his
hand,
with
Carrie’s
fur
tippet
(which
he
had
taken
off
the
downstairs
hall-peg)
round
his
neck,
and
announced
himself
in
a
loud,
coarse
voice:
“His
Royal
Highness,
the
Lord
Mayor!”
He
marched
twice
round
the
room
like
a
buffoon,
and
finding
we
took
no
notice,
said:
“Hulloh!
what’s
up?
Lovers’
quarrel,
eh?”
There
was
a
silence
for
a
moment,
so
I
said
quietly:
“My
dear
Gowing,
I’m
not
very
well,
and
not
quite
in
the
humour
for
joking;
especially
when
you
enter
the
room
without
knocking,
an
act
which
I
fail
to
see
the
fun
of.”
Gowing
said:
“I’m
very
sorry,
but
I
called
for
my
stick,
which
I
thought
you
would
have
sent
round.”
I
handed
him
his
stick,
which
I
remembered
I
had
painted
black
with
the
enamel
paint,
thinking
to
improve
it.
He
looked
at
it
for
a
minute
with
a
dazed
expression
and
said:
“Who
did
this?”
I
said:
“Eh,
did
what?”
He
said:
“Did
what?
Why,
destroyed
my
stick!
It
belonged
to
my
poor
uncle,
and
I
value
it
more
than
anything
I
have
in
the
world!
I’ll
know
who
did
it.”
I
said:
“I’m
very
sorry.
I
dare
say
it
will
come
off.
I
did
it
for
the
best.”
Gowing
said:
“Then
all
I
can
say
is,
it’s
a
confounded
liberty;
and
I
would
add,
you’re
a
bigger
fool
than
you
look,
only
that’s
absolutely
impossible.”
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