Five years ago, sir, an
uncle of mine inherited the property from his brother. The houses were then
in a very bad state, and only one of them let, and there had been lawsuits
going on for a long time between the leaseholder and the ground-landlord--I
can't quite understand these matters, they're not at all in my line, sir;
but at all events there were quarrels and lawsuits, and I'm told one of the
tenants was somehow mixed up in it. The fact is, my uncle wasn't a very
well-to-do man, and perhaps he didn't feel able to repair the houses,
especially as the lease was drawing to its end. Would you like to go in and
have a look round?'
They entered by the back door, which admitted them to a little wash-house.
The window was over-spun with cobwebs, thick, hoary; each corner of the
ceiling was cobweb-packed; long, dusty filaments depended along the walls.
Notwithstanding, Goldthorpe noticed that the house had a water-supply; the
sink was wet, the tap above it looked new. This confirmed a suspicion in
his mind, but he made no remark. They passed into the kitchen. Here again
the work of the spider showed thick on every hand. The window, however,
though uncleaned for years, had recently been opened; one knew that by the
torn and ragged condition of the webs where the sashes joined.
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