But then I ain't got religion." "Still the same old pagan," laughed Paul.
"No, not the same, sonny," said Barney Bill, holding up his knife, which supported a morsel of cheese.

"Old.

Rheumaticky.

Got to live in a 'ouse when it rains--me who never keered whether I was baked to a cinder or wet through! I ain't a pagan no more.

I'm a crock." Jane smiled affectionately at the old man, and her face was lit with rare sweetness when she smiled.