Open the door!" I went into the passage and opened the door to him.

He strode in without as much as a word, and, not waiting for my invitation, lurched heavily--he was a big, heavy-moving fellow--into the parlour, where he set down his bag, his plaid, and his stick, and dropping into an easy chair, gave a sort of groan as he looked at me.
"And what's your name ?" he demanded, as if he had all the right in the world to walk into folks' houses and ask his questions.

"Whatever it is, you're a likely-looking youngster!" "My name's Hugh Moneylaws," I answered, thinking it no harm to humour him.

"If you want to know about lodgings you must wait till my mother comes in.

Just now she's away up the street--she'll be back presently." "No hurry, my lad," he replied.