The Man in Possession — page 21: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

16 THE MAN IN POSSESSION. fort. But Cornelius O’Brien had pronounced it ‘‘just the thing,” and as it was within walking distance of his club, he had at once taken a lease of it without reference to Kate's taste or opinions. At the door of this domicile they were accordingly deposited, in the thick grey fog of the December morning, and the cabman grumblingly began to un- load the vehicle of its accumulation of hat-boxes, Gladstone bags, and other manly 27 ped:menia. Kate had rung the bell and the door was opened by a somewhat untidy looking domestic with very black hair and very red cheeks. In the narrow passage stood, or rather slouched, a shabby, seedy-looking man with an air of general indifference, and ‘‘do-nothingness” about him. As Kate's eye fell upon him, she started and glanced at Biddy. ‘‘Thrue for you, Miss,” said that personage. ‘*They’re in. Ah, the mane blayguard! A nice trick to play on a gintleman, as I told them.” ‘What is it?” asked Kate, rather faintly. ‘“‘Queen’s taxes, mum,” said the man, apologeti- cally. ‘‘Quarter overdue. Notice given. Put in to-day.” ‘‘And I claning the steps, and as unsuspecting as the babe unborn,” exclaimed Biddy. ‘‘Dear me, what's all this?” said O’Brien, advanc- ing. He did not repeat the question. He was not quite ignorant of the aspect and general significance of the type of man before him. ‘‘Very sorry, sir. Can’t be helped,” was the COMicloe (Sri C(O)