'
'Only to the carpenter,' Morris distinguished, 'and that was to reduce
the rent. But really, you know, now we're in it, I've seen worse.'
'And what am I to do?' complained the victim. 'How can I entertain a
friend?'
'My dear Johnny, if you don't think the tontine worth a little trouble,
say so, and I'll give the business up.'
'You're dead certain of the figures, I suppose?' asked John.
'Well'--with a deep sigh--'send me the Pink Un and all the comic papers
regularly. I'll face the music.'
As afternoon drew on, the cottage breathed more thrillingly of its
native marsh; a creeping chill inhabited its chambers; the fire smoked,
and a shower of rain, coming up from the channel on a slant of wind,
tingled on the window-panes. At intervals, when the gloom deepened
toward despair, Morris would produce the whisky-bottle, and at first
John welcomed the diversion--not for long. It has been said this spirit
was the worst in Hampshire; only those acquainted with the county can
appreciate the force of that superlative; and at length even the Great
Vance (who was no connoisseur) waved the decoction from his lips.
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