“I’ve heard of that. Nobody knows what became o’ the tramp. There wor roast pig found in the ashes, and whether roast tramp nobody cared to inquire.”
“The inn has been rebuilt. They call it a hotel now.”
“I daresay they does.”
“The insurance money did that.”
“I s’pose so. Lucky the house wor insured. I wish Varmer Pooke ’ad been.”
“You do?”
“I reckon I does. I’m sorry for what I did when I wor in a b’ilin’ blue rage. Now I can’t get over it noways, and you may tell’n so.”
“Why, that fire was the making of the landlord. He feels no ill-will against the tramp. What are you going to do with yourself now?”
“I don’t know.”
“I suppose you will want to see your wife again?”