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 averted as though he could not bear to look at her. At first she had imagined that her appearance repulsed him. She knew herself for a plain woman, but now she had learnt that he never looked at anybody if he could avoid it.

"Oh, he sold them well, I believe. I thought he wrote about them?"

"Oh yes, yes, sharp man, Porloch. Dickie been running round for his things?"

"Not often. He says he wants his letters forwarded to Elham till further notice."

The reference to Elham tickled Dickie's uncle. He put his cup down, giggled, mopped at his mouth and darted a side glance at his wife.

Mrs. Tottenham was not listening. She sat very stiff and upright, staring straight before her, crumbling at her cake.

"Hey, Mollie! Dickie's gone to Elham. Didgehear that? Pore old Dickie's gone to Elham again! Never wrote and told me, never told me anything. The young dog!"

The silence was once more outraged by his falsetto giggles.

He held his cup out for Lydia to refill,