Just his way of getting revenge, selling the property to

His morning it had only the effect of making him close his eyes as
though to shut out a vision too radiant to be borne. "Aren't you well,
Mr. Tibbetts?" she asked quickly and anxiously. "It's nothing, dear old
miss," said Bones, passing a weary and hypocritical hand across his
brow. "Just a fit of the jolly old staggers. The fact is, I've been
keeping late hours--in fact, dear young miss," he said huskily, "I have
been engaged in a wicked old pursuit--yes, positively naughty...." "Oh,
Mr. Tibbetts"--she was truly shocked--"I'm awfully sorry! You really
shouldn't drink--you're so young...." "Drink!" said the hurt and
astounded Bones. "Dear old slanderer! Poetry!" He had written sufficient
poetry to make a volume--poems which abounded in such rhymes as
"Marguerite," "Dainty feet," "Sweet," "Hard to