"I don't want you to go out for me.

It's a cold, foggy, wet night, Mrs.Bunting.If you have a little bread-and-butter and a cup of milk I shall be quite satisfied." "I have a nice sausage," she said hesitatingly.
It was a very nice sausage, and she had bought it that same morning for Bunting's supper; as to herself, she had been going to content herself with a little bread and cheese.

But now--wonderful, almost, intoxicating thought--she could send Bunting out to get anything they both liked.

The ten sovereigns lay in her hand full of comfort and good cheer.
"A sausage?
No, I fear that will hardly do.

I never touch flesh meat," he said; "it is a long, long time since I tasted a sausage, Mrs.Bunting." "Is it indeed, sir ?" She hesitated a moment, then asked stiffly, "And will you be requiring any beer, or wine, sir ?" A strange, wild look of lowering wrath suddenly filled Mr.Sleuth's pale face.
"Certainly not.