"How much is it?" said he.
"Twenty pounds," said she.
"Here," said he. "Michael gets a pound a week. There are twenty pounds of his wages for you before-hand."
"Oh," said she, "why would you give me so much money in advance?"
"For the Saviour's sake," said he.
"May the Saviour repay you for it," said she. He was gone before she had time to say any more.
The bailiff came in. He had a white hat on. He had puffy cheeks, and an overbearing mouth, a thick nose and a fat neck. He had a sheep's-grey frieze coat on, and he had a big stomach and a broad back and stout calves. He had a heavy blackthorn stick in his hand, and he was grunting and puffing.
"Rent or possession, woman of the house," said he.
"Rent or possession, woman of the house," said he, just as John of the Fair would say it. She called her son.
"Here, Michael," said she, "count that, and give it to this good man."
Michael opened his eyes, for he had not seen Shiana give the money to his mother. And the bailiff opened his eyes, because he had never expected that there would be a halfpenny of money in the house.
