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Updated: May 17, 2025
But when the policeman reached his own cottage on the side of the road, he stopped, panting, and contented himself with looking after the mounting figure. As soon as it turned the corner of the Costrells' lane, he went into his own house, said a word to his wife, and sat himself down at his own back door to await events to ponder, also, a few conversations he had held that morning, with Mrs.
Moulsey at 'the shop, with Dawson, with Hall the butcher. Poor old John poor old fellow! When Bolderfield reached the paling in front of the Costrells' cottage, he paused a moment, holding for support to the half-open gate and struggling for breath. 'I must keep my 'edd, I must, he was saying to himself piteously; don yer be a fool, John Borroful, don yer be a fool!
"Aye, this air 'll do yer," said the other. "Where are yer stoppin'? Costrells'?" John nodded. "They don't know nothin' about my comin', but I dessay they'll find me somethin' to sleep on. I'll 'ave my own place soon, and some one to look arter it." He drew himself up involuntarily, with the dignity that waits on property. A laugh, rather jeering than cordial, ran through the group of labourers.
Moulsey at "the shop," with Dawson, with Hall the butcher. Poor old John poor old fellow! When Bolderfield reached the paling in front of the Costrells' cottage, he paused a moment, holding for support to the half-open gate and struggling for breath. "I must keep my 'edd, I must," he was saying to himself piteously; "don' yer be a fool, John Borroful, don' yer be a fool!"
Their estimates only gave him the more ground for vague boasting, and he would not have said a word to put them right. When they reached the Costrells' cottage, John's first care was to examine the cupboard. He saw that the large wooden chest filled with odds and ends of rubbish which already stood there was placed on the top of his own box.
You've been ill, 'aven't yer? You look like it. An yer puttin up at Costrells'? 'Yes, till I can turn round a bit. 'Ave yer seen anythin ov 'em? 'Ow's Bessie? Watson faced back towards the village. 'I'll walk with yer a bit I'm in no 'urry. Oh, she's all right. You 'eard of her bit o' money? John opened his eyes. 'Noa, I don know as I did.
You've been ill, 'aven't yer? You look like it. An' yer puttin' up at Costrells'?" "Yes, till I can turn round a bit. 'Ave yer seen any thin' ov 'em? 'Ow's Bessie?" Watson faced back towards the village. "I'll walk with yer a bit I'm in no 'urry. Oh, she's all right. You 'eard of her bit o' money?" John opened his eyes. "Noa, I don' know as I did."
'Aye, this air'll do yer, said the other. 'Where are yer stoppin? Costrells'? John nodded. 'They don't know nothin about my comin, but I dessay they'll find me somethin to sleep on. I'll 'ave my own place soon, and some one to look arter it. He drew himself up involuntarily, with the dignity that waits on property. A laugh, rather jeering than cordial, ran through the group of labourers.
But when the policeman reached his own cottage on the side of the road, he stopped, panting, and contented himself with looking after the mounting figure. As soon as it turned the corner of the Costrells' lane, he went into his own house, said a word to his wife, and sat himself down at his own back door to await events to ponder, also, a few conversations he had held that morning, with Mrs.
Their estimates only gave him the more ground for vague boasting, and he would not have said a word to put them right. When they reached the Costrells' cottage, John's first care was to examine the cupboard. He saw that the large wooden chest filled with odds and ends of rubbish which already stood there was placed on the top of his own box.
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