"Well, I don't see anything so out of the way in that," she said
hastily, "'specially if he don't feel well. I'll take it up to him."

And then going to a small table which stood between the two windows,
Mrs. Bunting took off it a large Bible, which had been given to her
as a wedding present by a married lady with whose mother she had
lived for several years.

"He said it would do quite well when you take up his supper," said
Bunting; and, then, "Ellen? He's a queer-looking cove--not like
any gentleman I ever had to do with."

"He is a gentleman," said Mrs. Bunting rather fiercely.

"Oh, yes, that's all right." But still he looked at her doubtfully.
"I asked him if he'd like me to just put away his clothes. But,
Ellen, he said he hadn't got any clothes!"

"No more he hasn't;" she spoke quickly, defensively. "He had the
misfortune to lose his luggage. He's one dishonest folk 'ud take
advantage of."

"Yes, one can see that with half an eye," Bunting agreed.

And then there was silence for a few moments, while Mrs. Bunting
put down on a little bit of paper the things she wanted her husband
to go out and buy for her. She handed him the list, together with
a sovereign. "Be as quick as you can," she said, "for I feel a bit
hungry. I'll be going down now to see about Mr. Sleuth's supper.
He only wants a glass of milk and two eggs. I'm glad I've never