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With which Richard slung a towel round his neck and retired to the bathroom, leaving Mary to the reflection that, if ever there was a person who knew how to complicate the doing of a simple kindness, it was Richard. Here he went, detesting Tilly with all his old fervour and dead set from the start against Purdy and his coming to the house. (It was true Purdy had got rather loud and bumptious; but a sensible woman like Tilly might be trusted soon to knock the nonsense out of him.) Meanwhile she, Mary, had somehow to propitiate all three; and in particular to hinder Richard from showing what he felt. For if the match came off, Purdy would become a rich and important personage to whom every door would open. And then Richard, too, would come round would have to. If, that was, she could meanwhile contrive to keep him from making lifelong enemies of the happy pair.

Out of this irritation he now demanded: Tell me: are we never in this world to have our house to ourselves again?

Ha! I like that, cried Mahony, exasperated. I think Im possessed of the patience of Job, if you ask me. For theres never been a soul among them with whom I had two ideas in common.

Well, how else . . . can you perhaps suggest a better way for a discarnate being to make its presence known? Every beginning is crude and always has been. Though, for that matter, what is the Morse alphabet they use on the electric telegraph, but a series of transmitted raps?

Oh, for me its been different dear Mary! living next door to my mother and all that.

Mother did not put the question that would have leapt, under similar conditions, to Lisbys lips: Then, why, in the name of fortune, did he leave it? She only said: You must have patience, my dear.

Said Tilly: Well, here we are again, Poll, you and me, like so often before . . . and the day after to-morrows me wedding-day. Pon my word its hard to believe; and yet . . . I dont know, dearie, but somehow it seems no time since us three bits of girls used to sit over the fire and gas about all the grand things that was going to happen to us. Thats ages back, and yet, except that were grown a bit hulkier you and me, it might be only yesterday. I dont feel a day older and thats the truth; which is odd when you come to think of it . . . with pa and ma and Jinn and poor old Pa all gone, these ever so many years! I say, DO you remember, Poll, how Purd used to ride down from Melbourne? And how, when ed gone, I d count the days off on me fingers till ed come again?