Jane acknowledged his greeting and glanced around the room.

It was untidy, dirty and close, smelling strongly of tobacco and beer.

On the table was a bottle of whisky, half empty, and two glasses.
"There is really no reason why I should disturb you," Jane said, turning back upon the threshold.

"A letter from Mr.Segerson will do." Crockford, however, had pulled himself together.

A premonition of his impending fate had already produced a certain sullenness.
"Pettigrew," he directed, "you get out and have another look at the cow.
If you've any business word to say to me, your ladyship, I'm here." Jane looked once more around the squalid room, watched the unsteady figure of Pettigrew departing and looked back at her tenant.
"Your lease is up on March the twenty-fifth, Crockford," she reminded him.