“But it’s much worse at the house opposite,” said the old lady.
“Where the tenant died?” I said.
“Yes,” she answered innocently enough.
“Why, you seem anxious to let the house,” I said smiling.
“Well, yes,” said the old gentleman, combing his few hairs with one end of his spectacles. “You see, the agents like us to let the houses; and if we’re in one very long—”
“He don’t like it,” said the old lady.
“Then you often have to change?”
“It all depends; sometimes we’ve been in houses where they’ve been let in a week.”
“Not in new neighbourhoods,” said the old lady; “people’s shy of coming to the very new places. You see they’re only just run up, and the roads ain’t made.”
“Ah!” said the old gentleman, “sometimes the roads ain’t made till the houses are all let.”