“Quite right,” she said. In lieu of the substantial habitations which he had gazed on overnight, he beheld a row of falling scaffoldings, for such they seemed. “I will not ask you to explain further. " So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate. And yet—Wait a little, you’d better have every bit of it. At last—I told a story. A day will come when you will thank me. Only I wish that it did not remind one so much of a second-hand clothes shop.
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