"
"I think you never had a son?" said Way mark, observing the note of
melancholy which every now and then came up in the old man's talk.
"No."
"But you had some children, I think?"
"Yes, yes,--they're dead."
He had walked to the window, and suddenly turned round with a kind
of impatience.
"Never mind the friend to-day; come and have some dinner with me. I
seem to want a bit of company."
This was the first invitation of the kind Waymark had received. He
accepted it, and they went out together.
"It's a pleasant part this," Mr. Woodstock said, as they walked by
the river. "One might build himself a decent house somewhere about
here, eh?"
"Do you think of doing so?"
"I think of doing so! What's the good of a house, and nobody to live
in it?"
Waymark studied these various traits of the old man's humour, and
constantly felt more of kindness towards him.
On the following day, just as he had collected his rents, and was on
his way out of Litany Lane, Waymark was surprised at coming face to
face with Mrs. Casti; yet more surprised when he perceived that she
had come out from a public-house. She looked embarrassed, and for a
moment seemed about to pass without recognising him; but he had
raised his hat, and she could not but move her head in reply.
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