"First and foremost commenced," Mr. Clodd, as he laid aside his
hat, "it is quite understood that you really do want to get rid of
him? What's that?" demanded Mr. Clodd, a heavy thud upon the floor
above having caused him to start out of his chair.

"'E came in an hour after you'd gone," explained Mrs. Postwhistle,
"bringing with him a curtain pole as 'e'd picked up for a shilling
in Clare Market. 'E's rested one end upon the mantelpiece and tied
the other to the back of the easy-chair--'is idea is to twine
'imself round it and go to sleep upon it. Yes, you've got it quite
right without a single blunder. I do want to get rid of 'im"

"Then," said Mr. Clodd, reseating himself, "it can be done."

"Thank God for that!" was Mrs. Postwhistle's pious ejaculation.

"It is just as I thought," continued Mr. Clodd. "The old innocent-
-he's Gladman's brother-in-law, by the way--has got a small
annuity. I couldn't get the actual figure, but I guess it's about
sufficient to pay for his keep and leave old Gladman, who is
running him, a very decent profit. They don't want to send him to
an asylum. They can't say he's a pauper, and to put him into a
private establishment would swallow up, most likely, the whole of
his income. On the other hand, they don't want the bother of
looking after him themselves. I talked pretty straight to the old
man--let him see I understood the business; and--well, to cut a
long story short, I'm willing to take on the job, provided you
really want to have done with it, and Gladman is willing in that
case to let you off your contract."