'
'Where would you 'a buried 'im, then, Muster Lantoff?' asked a
fisher-boy in a blue worsted jerkin.
'Buried 'im? why, at the cross-ruds, with a hedge-stake through his
guts, to be sure. If there's a penny agin' 'im on that air slate'
(pointing to a slate hung up on the door) 'there must be ten
shillins, dang 'im.'
'You blear-eyed, ignorant old donkey,' I cried, coming suddenly
upon him, 'what do you suppose he could have done with a dead body in
these days? Here's your wretched ten shillings,--for which you'd sell
all the corpses in Raxton churchyard.'
And I gave him half-a-sovereign, feeling, somehow, that I was doing
honour to Winifred.
'Thankee for the money, Mister Hal, anyhow,' said the old creature.
'You was allus a liberal 'un, you was. But as to what Tom could 'a
dun with the carpus, I'm allus heer'd that you may dew anythink
_with_ any-think, if you on'y send it carriage-paid to Lunnon,'
I left the house in anger and disgust. No tidings could I get of
Winifred in Raxton or Graylingham.
By this time I was thoroughly worn out, and obliged to go home.
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