"I don't understand you, Uncle Felix."
"How many times must I tell you that I am no longer your uncle?" he stormed.
"From this time I am done with you."
"What have I done?"
"What have you done? What haven't you done? Ruined your good name forever!"
"I didn't muss up"
"Oh, pshaw, give the floor and the office a rest! I want you to own up without further words."
By this time I was more bewildered than ever. What in the world was my uncle driving at?
"What do you want me to own up to?" I asked.
"You know well enough."
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do."
"I don't."
"I'll give you five minutes to make a full confession," he cried, in a perfect rage. "At the end of that time if you are still obdurate I will hand you over to the police."
This was certainly alarming news. Surely something serious had happened.
"If you will tell me what the trouble is, I'll try to answer your question," was all I could find to say.
