“Come—tell me what you want,” said Coppinger, impatiently.
“I want to be secure for my old age, that I do not spend it in the poor-house.”
“What do you ask?”
“Give me an annuity of fifty pounds for my life, and Othello Cottage that is on your land.”
“You ask enough.”
“You will never get Judith without granting me that.”
“Well—get Judith to be mine, and you shall have it.”
“Will you swear to it?”
“Yes.”
“And give me—I desire that—the promise in writing.”