"You know nothing about death, Martin; you are too young for me to talk to concerning such a thing."
"Did you believe me? It's all flummery! Moore eats like three men. They are always making sago or tapioca or something good for him. I never go into the kitchen but there is a saucepan on the fire, cooking him some dainty. I think I will play the old soldier, and be fed on the fat of the land like him."
"Martin! Martin!" Here her voice trembled, and she stopped.

"You know nothing about death, Martin; you are too young for me to talk to about it."
"Did you believe me? It's all flummery! Moore eats like three men. They are always making something tasty for him - cooking some dainty in the kitchen. I think I will play the old soldier, and be fed on the fat of the land like him."
"Martin!" Her voice trembled. 