Goldthorpe, did I grudge any payment of money as I
grudge the ground-rent of these houses. I feel it as robbery, sir, as sheer
robbery, though the sum is so small. When, in my ignorance, the matter was
first explained to me, I wondered why my uncle had continued to pay this
rent, the houses being of no profit to him. But now I understand, Mr.
Goldthorpe; the sense of possession is very sweet. Property's property,
even when it's leasehold and in ruins. I grudge the ground-rent bitterly,
but I feel, sir, that I couldn't bear to lose my houses until the fatal
moment, when lose them I must.'
In August the thermometer began to mark high degrees. Goldthorpe found it
necessary to dispense with coat and waistcoat when he was working, and at
times a treacherous languor whispered to him of the delights of idleness.
After one particularly hot day, he and his landlord smoked together in the
dusking garden, both unusually silent. Mr. Spicer's eye dwelt upon the
great heap of weeds which was resulting from his labour; an odour somewhat
too poignant arose from it upon the close air. Goldthorpe, who had been
rather headachy all day, was trying to think into perfect clearness the
last chapters of his book, and found it difficult.
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