"There's not much to choose between your two states," says the visitor in a key too low for the old man's dull hearing as he looks from him to the old woman and back again. "I say!" in a louder voice.
"I hear you."
"You'll sell me up at last, I suppose, when I am a day in arrear."
"My dear friend!" cries Grandfather Smallweed, stretching out both hands to embrace him. "Never! Never, my dear friend! But my friend in the city that I got to lend you the money--HE might!"

"You'll sell me up at last, I suppose, when I am a day in arrears."
"My dear friend!" cries Grandfather Smallweed, stretching out both hands, "Never! Never! But my friend in the city that I got to lend you the money - he might!"
