I clapped my hand on the table. "And that is the reason of the low rent?"
"It looks like it, doesn't it?"
"And that is why the last tenant did not live in it?"
"Ah," said Bob, "now you strike another key. There is a mystery here which I cannot fathom. Having a house on lease and being responsible for the rent, he is bound to pay till his term has expired. Very well--but here's the point, Ned: The lease having run out, and he having all these years presumably paid a large sum of money every quarter-day for value not received, why should he wish to renew? The house is haunted, he will not live in it, he never even opens the door to say how do you do to the property which is costing him so dear, and now that his responsibility is at an end he wants to take it upon his shoulders again, and to be allowed the privilege of continuing to pay his rent without receiving any return for it. Men don't usually throw their money away without some special reason, and this eccentric proceeding on the part of the last tenant makes one rather curious."
"It is certainly very mysterious," I observed. "What was the rent he paid for it?"
"I heard Mr. Gascoigne say a hundred and fifty pounds."
"And it is offered to us for ninety. Have you seen the house, Bob?"
"No."
"Mr. Gascoigne has, I suppose."
"I don't believe he has."