Smith
beat him and he sold Mr. Smith that meadow; he was heard to say, there
was worse than transportation for Mr. Smith if he but lifted his finger.
They Tinmans have awful tempers. His old mother died malignant, though
she was a saving woman, and never owed a penny to a Christian a hour
longer than it took to pay the money. And old Tinman's just such
another."
"Transportation!" Herbert ejaculated, "that's sheer nonsense, Crickledon.
I'm sure your husband would tell you so."
"It was my husband brought me the words," Mrs. Crickledon rejoined with
some triumph. "He did tell me, I own, to keep it shut: but my speaking to
you, a friend of Mr. Smith's, won't do no harm. He heard them under the
battery, over that chiwal glass: 'And you shall pay,' says Mr. Smith, and
'I sha'n't,' says old Tinman. Mr. Smith said he would have it if he had
to squeeze a deathbed confession from a sinner. Then old Tinman fires
out, 'You!' he says, 'you' and he stammered. 'Mr. Smith,' my husband said
and you never saw a man so shocked as my husband at being obliged to hear
them at one another Mr.
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