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A lodger, too! You know the arrangement. You'd better go, I think, if you can't behave yourself." "I won't go till my three weeks are up," said Mr. Hatchard, doggedly, "so you may as well behave yourself." "I can't pamper you for a pound a week," said Mrs. Hatchard, walking to the door. "If you want pampering, you had better go."
"Well, it's nothing to do with me," he said at last. "He's mad," said his wife, in a tense whisper; "stark staring mad. He says I'm his favorite wife, and he made me stroke his forehead." The bed shook again. "I don't see that I have any right to interfere," said Mr. Hatchard, after he had quieted the bedstead. "He's your lodger." "You're my husband," said Mrs. Hatchard. "Ho!" said Mr. Hatchard.
"Supper, please," said the new lodger, with dignity. Mrs. Hatchard looked bewildered. "Well, there it is," she said, indicating the table. "You don't want me to feed you, do you?" The lodger eyed the small, dry piece of cheese, the bread and butter, and his face fell. "I I thought I smelled something cooking," he said at last. "Oh, that was my supper," said Mrs. Hatchard, with a smile.
"Well, it's nothing to do with me," he said at last. "He's mad," said his wife, in a tense whisper; "stark staring mad. He says I'm his favorite wife, and he made me stroke his forehead." The bed shook again. "I don't see that I have any right to interfere," said Mr. Hatchard, after he had quieted the bedstead. "He's your lodger." "You're my husband," said Mrs. Hatchard. "Ho!" said Mr. Hatchard.
Miss Hatchard was still away; but even had she been at North Dormer she was the last person to whom Charity would have turned, since one of the motives urging her to flight was the wish not to see Lucius Harney.
But you needn't trouble: it's my library today, but it won't be this time tomorrow. I'm on the way now to take her back the key and the register." Young Harney's face grew grave, but without betraying the consciousness of guilt she had looked for. "I don't understand," he said. "There must be some mistake. Why should I say things against you to Miss Hatchard or to anyone?"
"Of course, if you're afraid of having me here afraid o' giving way to tenderness, I mean " "Afraid?" choked Mrs. Hatchard. "Tenderness! "Just a matter o' business," continued her husband; "that's my way of looking at it that's a man's way. I s'pose women are different. They can't " "Come in," said Mrs. Hatchard, breathing hard Mr.
It was the thing that did happen between young men and girls, and that North Dormer ignored in public and snickered over on the sly. It was what Miss Hatchard was still ignorant of, but every girl of Charity's class knew about before she left school. It was what had happened to Ally Hawes's sister Julia, and had ended in her going to Nettleton, and in people's never mentioning her name.
"There's the door," said Mrs. Hatchard, pointing. "What's to prevent you?" "And have you going to the magistrate?" observed Mr. Hatchard. "Not me," was the reply. "Or coming up, full of complaints, to the ware-house?" "Not me," said his wife again. "It makes my mouth water to think of it," said Mr. Hatchard. "Four years ago I hadn't a care in the world." "Me neither," said Mrs.
Hatchard's enforced absence at business, and a small bamboo table, weak in the joints, did duty in its stead. The new lodger, a man of middle age with a ready tongue, was a success from the first, and it was only too evident that Mrs. Hatchard was trying her best to please him. Mr.
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