To his wife, a good quiet sort of body, who,
as Forrester phrased it, did not dare to say the soul was her own, he
deputed the whole domestic management of the tavern; while he would be
gone, nobody could say where or why, for weeks and more at a time, away
from bar and hostel, in different portions of the country. None ventured
to inquire into a matter that was still sufficiently mysterious to
arouse curiosity; people living with and about him generally
entertaining a degree of respect, amounting almost to vulgar awe, for
his person and presence, which prevented much inquiry into his doings.
Some few, however, more bold than the rest, spoke in terms of suspicion;
but the number of this class was inconsiderable, and they themselves
felt that the risk which they incurred was not so unimportant as to
permit of their going much out of the way to trace the doubtful features
in his life.
As we have already stated, he took his place along with his guests; the
bottles and glasses were replenished, the story of the pedler again
told, and each individual once more busied in describing his own
exploits.
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