"
"You married a betting man, Esther? How curiously things do work out! I
remember you were engaged to a pious young man, the stationer's foreman.
That was when you were with Miss Rice; you know, I suppose, that she's
dead."
"No, sir, I didn't know it. I've had so much trouble lately that I've not
been to see her for nearly two years. When did she die, sir?"
"About two months ago. So you married a betting man! Miss Rice did say
something about it, but I don't think I understood that he was a betting
man; I thought he was a publican."
"So he was, sir. We lost our licence through the betting."
"You say he's being examined by the doctor. Is it a bad case?"
"I'm afraid it is, sir."
They walked on in silence until they reached the gate.
"To me this place is infinitely pathetic. That little cough never silent
for long. Did you hear that poor girl say with surprise that her cough is
no better than it was last Christmas?"
"Yes, sir. Poor girl, I don't think she's long for this world."
"But tell me about your husband, Esther," he said, and his face filled
with an expression of true sympathy. "I'm a subscriber, and if your
husband would like to become an in-door patient, I hope you'll let me
know."
"Thank you, sir; you was always the kindest, but there's no reason why I
should trouble you.
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