“Thank you. He did not like it, he said, with a significant look, to be reminded of either his books or his dinners after he had done with them. “I don’t think I shall. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. “You could tell me but you’d have to kill me?” He asked with a sardonic grin on his face. "What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed. “A most wonderful likeness, too. " 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. .
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