"I'll be through in a few minutes."
"I don't want the rest done till mornin'."
"It will pay neither of us for me to come back here to do what's left."
"It may pay you, and as to its payin' me, that's my business."
"Not altogether—I wish to do my work on business principles; I haven't got down to charity yet."
"Well, have your own way, then; I s'pose other folks have a right to have it as well as myself, sometimes. Come in soon as you are through."
By the time Haldaue finished his task the clouds had settled heavily all around the horizon, hastening forward an early and gloomy twilight, and the rain was beginning to fall steadily. His mood comported with the aspect of sky and earth, and weariness, the fast ally of despondency, aided in giving a leaden hue to the future and a leaden weight, to his thoughts. The prospect of trudging a mile or more through the drenching rain to his previous squalid resting-place at No. 13, whose only attraction consisted in the fact that no questions were asked, was so depressing that he decided to ask Mr. Growther for permission to sleep in the corner of his woodshed.
"Come in," shouted Mr. Growther, in response to his knock at the door.
"I'm through," said Haldane laconically.
"Well, I ain't," replied Mr. Growther; "you wouldn't mind taking that cheer till I am, would you?"