"I tell you I have not," says Geoffrey. "Nothing of the sort. You are wool-gathering.",
"Well, but is that altogether a falsehood? Pigs and smoke and live fowls and babies are, I am convinced, good things in their own way and when well at a distance. But, under the roof with one and in an apartment a few feet square, I don't think I seem to care about them, and I'm sure they can't tend towards cleanliness.",
Turning sorrowfully away, she drops some silver into the poor widow's lap; whereon Geoffrey, who has been standing close to her all the time, covers it with two sovereigns..
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