For the ranz des vaches was now ringing in the stout peasant girl's ears.

"There, that's all, now!" rasped the old man, when the maid had gathered up her dole.

"The butler will go down to town with ye and see ye safe, and he will leave word at the bank to pay yere checks.

I keep no siller here.

It's a lonely house." And the dead tyrant worked his will through the living one, as his stony heart had laid out the future.
Justine Delande faced the old miser pedant as she indignantly cried: "God protect and keep the poor orphan who has drifted out of one hell on earth into another! Your dead brother robbed her of a mother's love, and you--you old vampire--you would bury her alive! She shall know yet her dead mother's love, and--her brutal father's shame!" Before the excited woman could select another period of flowing invective from her thronging emotions, the gaunt old scholar had pushed her out into the hall and slid a bolt upon his door, with a vicious click.