But he was a law unto himself, though
sometimes a bad, fierce law; and he resolved to give the
rent-collector notice, and look out for a cheaper abode, and tell
Mary they must flit. Poor Mary! she loved the house, too. It was
wrenching up her natural feelings of home, for it would be long
before the fibres of her heart would gather themselves about another
place.
This trial was spared. The collector (of himself), on the very
Monday when Barton planned to give him notice of his intention to
leave, lowered the rent threepence a week, just enough to make
Barton compromise and agree to stay on a little longer.
But by degrees the house was stripped of all its little ornaments.
Some were broken; and the odd twopences and threepences, wanted to
pay for their repairs, were required for the far sterner necessity
of food. And by-and-bye Mary began to part with other superfluities
at the pawn-shop. The smart tea-tray and tea-caddy, long and
carefully kept, went for bread for her father. He did not ask for
it, or complain, but she saw hunger in his shrunk, fierce, animal
look.
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