'
So Mrs. Pownceby, meeting on the stairs
Her second-floor lodger, me, bound citywards,
Told of her sister's death, doing her best
To match her face's colour with the news:
While I in listening made a running gloss
Beneath her speech of all she left unsaid.
As--'in the kitchen,' _rather in the way,_
_Poor thing_; 'busy on breakfast,' _awkward time_,
_Indeed, for one must live and lodgers' meals_,
_You know, must be attended to what comes_--
(Or goes, I added for her) _yes! indeed_.
'"She's gone at last," I said,' _and better perhaps_,
_For what had life for her but suffering?_
_And then, we're only poor, sir, John and I_,
_And she indeed was somewhat of a strain_:
_O! yes, it's for the best for all of us_.
And still beneath all else methought I read
'_What will the lodgers think, having the dead_
_Within the house! how inconvenient!_'
What did the lodgers think? Well, I replied
In grief's set phrase, but 'the first floor,'
I fancy, frowned at first, as though indeed
Landladies' sisters had no right to die
And taint the air for nervous lodger folk;
Then smoothed his brow out into decency,
And said, 'how sad!' and presently inquired
The day of burial, ending with the hope
His lunch would not be late like yesterday.
Pages:
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50