The Diary of a Nobody

I said: “Pardon me, Mr. Gowing invited—” He interrupted and said: “I don’t care for Mr. Gowing, or any of his friends. This is my door, not Mr. Gowing’s. There are people here besides Mr. Gowing.” The impertinence of this man was nothing. I scarcely noticed it, it was so trivial in comparison with the scandalous conduct of Gowing. At this moment Cummings and his wife arrived. Cummings was very lame and leaning on a stick; but got up the steps and asked what the matter was. The man said: “Mr. Gowing said nothing about expecting anyone. All he said was he had just received an invitation to Croydon, and he should not be back till Monday evening. He took his bag with him.” With that he slammed the door again. I was too indignant with Gowing’s conduct to say anything. Cummings looked white with rage, and as he descended the steps struck his stick violently on the ground and said: “Scoundrel!”