It's just a saying; just a joke, you know--nothing of it.

Relation of yours ?" Sally crowded his burning eagerness down, and answered with all the indifference he could assume: "I--well, not that I know of, but we've heard of him." The editor was thankful, and resumed his composure.

Sally added: "Is he--is he--well ?" "Is he WELL?
Why, bless you he's in Sheol these five years!" The Fosters were trembling with grief, though it felt like joy.

Sally said, non-committally--and tentatively: "Ah, well, such is life, and none can escape--not even the rich are spared." The editor laughed.
"If you are including Tilbury," said he, "it don't apply.

HE hadn't a cent; the town had to bury him." The Fosters sat petrified for two minutes; petrified and cold.