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"Well, I telled 'ee zo," said the road-mender. "He's brart down the nextest heir, var tu keep a hold over Master Peter, and I doan't blame 'un." "James Coachman telled me vive minutes zince as zummat were up. 'Ee zad such arders var tu-morrer morning, 'ee says, as niver 'ee had befar," said the landlord. "Thart James Coachman weren't niver lit tu come here," said the road-mender, slyly.
But dey didn't stop, an' de nextest t'ing I knowed dere was a big bang. I run in, an' I seed Mistah Roumann all blowed to pieces." "Hardly as bad as that," said the German with a smile. "Well, almost," insisted Washington. They reached the machine shop. The smoke had all cleared away, but the fumes from the bomb were still noticeable. "I wonder what their object could have been?" said Jack.
"Yer daddy ain't a-comin' home," Ben Letts broke in upon her meditations. "He air," retorted Tess. "He air the nextest time I go for him." "It air a lie," insisted the fisherman, "ye comes with me to the minister and I'll make yer an hones' woman. Ye'll have to cut that mop and settle down like a woman should. Do ye hear?... Tessibel, I says an hones' woman!"
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