I've been travelling this God-forsaken moor since dusk--" "With your boots in your hand," he put in quietly.
"I took them off out of respect to the yellow dog you keep." "He lies in a very natural attitude--eh ?" "You don't tell me he was _stuffed ?_" The old man's eyes beamed a contemptuous pity.
"You are indifferent sharp, my dear sir, for a housebreaker.

Come in.
Set down those convicting boots, and don't drip pools of water in the doorway.

If I must entertain a burglar, I prefer him tidy." He walked to the fire, picked up a poker, and knocked the coals into a blaze.

This done, he turned round on me with the poker still in his hand.

The serenest gravity sat on his large, pale features.
"Why have I done this ?" he asked.
"I suppose to get possession of the poker." "Quite right.