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He stood below in the mean street, looking up at her. So fine she was in her stature and her bearing, she reminded him of Juno dethroned. As she stood in the doorway, she winced from the street, from her surroundings. "And you will go with Mrs. Hodgkisson to Hucknall?" He was talking quite meaninglessly, only watching her. Her grey eyes at last met his.
Arena ter for gi'ein' me one for my bit of a lad an' wench? 'I ham, Walter, my lad, 'e says; 'ta'e which on 'em ter's a mind. An' so I took one, an' thanked 'im. I didn't like ter shake it afore 'is eyes, but 'e says, 'Tha'd better ma'e sure it's a good un, Walt. An' so, yer see, I knowed it was. He's a nice chap, is Bill Hodgkisson, e's a nice chap!"
He laid the gingerbread and the cocoanut, a hairy object, on the table. "Nay, tha niver said thankyer for nowt i' thy life, did ter?" As a compromise, she picked up the cocoanut and shook it, to see if it had any milk. "It's a good 'un, you may back yer life o' that. I got it fra' Bill Hodgkisson. 'Bill, I says, 'tha non wants them three nuts, does ter?
Morel came home at night from the pit, saying: "They tell me Paul's got first prize for his picture, and sold it to Lord Henry Bentley for fifty pound." "Oh, what stories people do tell!" she cried. "Ha!" he answered. "I said I wor sure it wor a lie. But they said tha'd told Fred Hodgkisson." "As if I would tell him such stuff!" "Ha!" assented the miner. But he was disappointed nevertheless.
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