A disagreeable one, perhaps, like the Shore Lane, but a nuisance, one to laugh at and forget--if it could not be gotten rid of.
Why had I gone with Colton at all?
Why hadn't I remained at the boathouse and there told the King of New York to go to the mischief?
or words to that effect.

But I had, at all events, told him that.

In spite of my chagrin I could not help chuckling as I thought of it.

To tell Big Jim Colton to go to the devil was, in its way, I imagined, a privilege enjoyed by few.

It must have shaken his self-satisfaction a trifle.
Well, after all, what did I care?
He, and his whole family--including Victor--had my permission to migrate in that direction and I wished Old Nick joy of their company.
Having derived this much satisfaction from my reflections, I went downstairs.