'And that little room at the far end; what's that?' said the visitor.'
'Oh, I couldn't show you that at all, at all. It's locked; bekaise
he keeps all his money there.'
'Ah; he's a miser,' The Lifter said in a low voice. 'Show me where I
am to sleep.'
She would put him in the attic, but he refused. The kitcheen was
good enough for him, if she'd just bring him a pillow to put under
his head, and a rug to throw over him.
This at last she consented to do; then stooping down she sturdily
hugged his green, hypocritical head, kissed him square on the lips,
and went to bed.
'Don't go till I give you some breakfast, me poor dear,' she said as
the went. He _looked_ his gratitude.
'I shall be waiteen when you come down--(to himself) for the capteen
to divide the plunder. But I'll divide mine with the poor;' and he
laid himself across the rug to listen. For an hour or better he
remained there, and then set up a low but regular snore. For this
cunning invader had a notion in his head that Bridget might possibly
be hovering still about the lower regions. For five minutes the
monotonous, low-rolling snores went up, and then there was a creaking
upon the stairs.
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