The landlady hovered on the threshold to rectify anything that Mrs.Marchmill might not find to her satisfaction.
'I'll make this my own little room,' said the latter, 'because the books are here.

By the way, the person who has left seems to have a good many.
He won't mind my reading some of them, Mrs.Hooper, I hope ?' 'O dear no, ma'am.

Yes, he has a good many.

You see, he is in the literary line himself somewhat.

He is a poet--yes, really a poet--and he has a little income of his own, which is enough to write verses on, but not enough for cutting a figure, even if he cared to.' 'A poet! O, I did not know that.' Mrs.Marchmill opened one of the books, and saw the owner's name written on the title-page.