ept the room six months.

    That goes back a year, sir, and further I do not remember."

    He thanked her ao his room. The room was dead. The esse had vivified it was gohe perfume of mige had departed. In its place was the old, stale odour of mouldy house furmosphere in ste.

    The ebbing of his hope drained his faith. He sat staring at the yellow, singing gaslight. Soohe bed aear the sheets into strips. With the blade of his khem tightly into every crevid windows and door. When all was snug aurhe light, turhe gas full on again and laid himself gratefully upon the bed.

    * * * * * * *

    It was Mrs. Might to go with the  for beer. So she fetd sat with Mrs. Purdy ihose subterras where house-keepers father and the worm dieth seldom.

    "I re my third floor, back, this evening," said Mrs. Purdy, across a fine . "A young man took it. He went up to bed two."

    "Now, did ye, Mrs. Purdy, ma'am?" said Mrs. McCool, with iion. "You do be a wonder for rentin' rooms of that kind. Aell him, then?" she  a husky whisper, laden with mystery.

    "Rooms," said Mrs. Purdy, in her furriest tones, "are furo rent. I did not tell him, Mrs. McCool."

    "'Tis right ye are, ma'am; 'tis by renting rooms e alive. Ye have the rale sense for business, ma'am. There be many people will rayjitin' of a room if they be tould a suicide has been after dyin' i."

    "As you say, we has  to be making," remarked Mrs. Purdy.

    "Yis, ma'am; 'tis true. 'Tis just ohis day I