"That rain-shute's out of order," he said, addressing Captain Coffin.
"Give me a shilling to put it right for you, and you'll save yourself
a lot of trouble."
"That's the landlord's affair," answered Captain Coffin, "and I'm not
paying you fippence an' hour to talk.
"But, sir," I put in, "if you walk to Plymouth you must pass the
house where I live--a low-roofed house about three miles this side of
St. Germans village, with a thatch on it, and windows opening right
on the road, and 'Minden Cottage' painted over the door."
"Know it? Bless my soul, to be sure I know it! Why, the last time
but one I passed that way, taking note that one of the window-hinges
was out of gear, I knocked and asked leave to repair it. A lady with
side-curls opened the door, and after the job was done took me into
the parlour an' gave me a jugful of cider over and above the sixpence
charged. I believe she'd have made it a shillin', too, only when I
told her she lived in a very pretty house, and asked if she owned it
or rented it, she turned very stiff in her manner. Touchy as tinder
she was; and if that comes of being a lady, I'm glad my Martha's more
sociable."
"That was Plinny--Miss Plinlimmon, I mean. You didn't catch sight of
my father--Major Brooks?"
"No, I didn't.
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