Her cottage was close at hand, very small, built of quarry-stone that corroded rapidly with exposure—the air reduced it to black dust. The chimney threatened to fall; it was gnawed into on the south-west side like a bit of mice-eaten cheese. The thatch was rotten, the rafters were exposed and decayed. The walls, bulged out by the thrust of the bedroom floor-joists, were full of rents and out of the perpendicular. The place looked so ruinous, so unsafe, that Arminell hesitated to enter. The door had fallen, because the frame had rotted away. Patience led her guest over it into the room. There everything was tidy and clean. Tidiness and cleanliness were strangely combined with ruin and decay. In the window was a raven in a cage. “This house is dangerous to live in,” said Arminell. “Does Mr. Macduff not see that repairs are done? It is unfit for human habitation.” “Macduff!” scoffed Mrs. Kite. “Do y’ think that this house belongs to his lordship? It is mine, and because it is mine they cannot force me to leave it, and to go into the workhouse.” “But you are in peril of your life here, the chimney might fall and bury you any windy night. The roof might crash in.” “So the sanitary officer says. He has condemned the house.” “Then you are leaving?” “No. He has done his duty. But I am not going to turn out.” “Yet surely, Mrs. Kite, if the place is dangerous, you will not be allowed to remain?” “Who can interfere with me? The board of guardians have applied to the petty sessions for an order, and it has been granted and served on me.” “Then, of course, you go?” “No; they can order me to go, but they cannot force me to go. The policeman says they can fine me ten shillings a day if I remain and defy them. Let them fine me. They must next get an order to distrain to get the amount. They may sell my furniture, but they won’t be able to turn me out.” “But why remain in peril of your life? You will be crushed under the ruins some stormy night.” “Why remain here? Because I’ve nowhere else to go to. I will not go into the union, and I will not live in a house with other folk. I am accustomed to be alone. I am not afraid. Here I am at liberty, and I will die here rather than lose my freedom.” “You cannot even shut your door.” “I do not need to. I fear nothing, not the sanitary officer; he can do nothing. Not the board of guardians; they can do nothing. Not the magistrates; they cannot touch me.”[1] “Have you anything to live on?” “I pick up a trifle. I bless bad knees and stop the flow of blood, and show where stolen goods are hidden, and tell who has ill-wished any one.” “You receive contributions from the superstitious.” “I get my living my own way. There is room for all in the world.” Arminell seated herself in a chair offered her, and looked at the raven in its cage, picking at the bars.