"
"But what should you do in my place?" Denry insisted.
"Since you ask, I should lower the rent and let her off the arrears,"
said Fearns.
"And supposing she didn't pay then? Let her have it rent-free because
she's seventy? Or pitch her into the street?"
"Oh--Well--"
"Fearns would make her a present of the blooming house and give her a
conveyance free!" a voice said humorously, and everybody laughed.
"Well, that's what I'll do," said Denry. "If Mr Fearns will do the
conveyance free, I'll make her a present of the blooming house. That's
the sort of grasping owner I am."
There was a startled pause. "I mean it," said Denry firmly, even
fiercely, and raised his glass. "Here's to the Widow Hullins!"
There was a sensation, because, incredible though the thing was, it had
to be believed. Denry himself was not the least astounded person in the
crowded, smoky room. To him, it had been like somebody else talking, not
himself. But, as always when he did something crucial, spectacular, and
effective, the deed had seemed to be done by a mysterious power within
him, over which he had no control.
This particular deed was quixotic, enormously unusual; a deed assuredly
without precedent in the annals of the Five Towns.
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