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 dislike come over him, as he looked at the solitary inmate of the solitary house.

"Hey day, Sir!" said she in a grating voice, "and what now? Oh! Mr. Summers, is it you? You're welcome, Sir. I wishes I could offer you a glass of summut, but the bottle's dry—he, he;" pointing with a revolting grin to an empty bottle that stood on a niche within the hearth.

"I don't know how it is. Sir, but I never wants to eat; but ah! 'tis the liquor that does un good!"

"You have lived a long time in this house?" said the Curate.

"A long time—some thirty years an' more."

"You remember your lodger Mr. Aram?"

"A—well—yes!"

"An excellent man—"

"Humph."

"A most admirable man!"

"A-humph! he!—humph! that's neither here nor there."