It was so kind of me to come and cheer her lonely hour.
Politeness forbade my saying that I had come to do nothing of the sort.
To my vague expression of courtesy she responded by asking me with a laugh how I liked Mr.Anastasius Papadopoulos.
I replied that I considered it urbane on his part to invite me to see his cats perform.
"If you were to hurt one of his cats he'd murder you," she informed me.
"He always carries a long, sharp knife concealed somewhere about him on purpose." "What a fierce little gentleman," I remarked.
"He looks on me as one of his cats, too," she said with a low laugh, "and considers himself my protector.

Once in Buda-Pesth he and I were driving about.

I was doing some shopping.

As I was getting into the cab a man insulted me, on account, I suppose, of my German name.

Anastasius sprang at him like a wild beast, and I had to drag him off bodily and lift him back into the cab.