"Who allowed you to enter my study?" he asked again, anger unchecked.
I climbed to my feet, unable to be bold and assertive; after all, I had intruded without permission, and had even damaged his property, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—I did it to save—it." I pointed to the little sparrow lying on its side on the desk, "I'll compensate you for the damage, is that okay?"
He snorted in disdain at my sincere intention to compensate, then noticed the gray-brown lump on the desk and quickly took two steps to the edge of the table, "What is this thing?" He looked like he was about to kill someone.
Startled, I desperately pushed past him and protected the little creature in my hands, "This is a little sparrow, caught by the sticky net among the rose bushes outside your window. But why would you put up a sticky net in your yard?"
He paused for a moment, his face cold, "This is my garden, and this is my study!"