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The silences grew longer and longer; then the husband set down his knife and fork, and leaving the head of the table went round to his wife's side and took her hand and squeezed it, but did not speak. She turned to him and he saw her shut her eyes and give a little shiver. Then a tear flashed upon her lashes and twinkled boldly down, followed by another. "Phoebe! My awn li'l wummon!
Presently she departed with her stepmother, whereupon Sally Trevennick relieved her pent-up feelings. "Thank the Lard that chitter-faaced wummon edn' gwaine to the weddin' any ways! Us knaws she's a dear good sawl 'nough; but what wi' her sour voice, an' her sour way o' talkin', an' her sour 'pinions, she'm enough to set a rat-trap's teeth on edge."
'Tis all wan now. Wanton or no wanton, she've flummoxed me this day. The giglot lied an' said the thing that was not. She'm not o' the Kingdom the fust Tregenza as ever lied the fust." "God send it edn' as bad as it do look, master. 'Er caracter belike ban't gone. S'pose as she'm married?" "Hould your clack, wummon. I be thinkin'." He was thinking, indeed.
You'll see great changes in the picture of yourself soon though." But she was not satisfied, of course misunderstanding the unfinished work. "You mustn't say anything yet, you know, Joan," added the artist, seeing her pouting lips. "But but you've drawed me as flat as a cheeld, an' I be round as a wummon, ban't I?" she said, holding out her hands that he might see her slight figure.
I know I'm a sinful, wicked wummon, an' I'm heart-broke day an' night for the shame I've brot 'pon my folks. I'll trouble 'e no more if 'e will awnly say the word. Please, please, faither, forgive." She stood without moving, as did he. Uncle Chirgwin watched silently. Mrs. Tregenza made some stir at the fire to conceal her anxiety.
He turned 'pon en sudden an' sez: 'Praise God, praise the Lard o' Hosts, my sons, here's Tom, here's my lad as us thot weer drownded! Then he kissed that beast, an' it licked his faace, an' he cried that iron sawl cried like a wummon!
Ban't no good for me to sit an' look at her, poor fond wummon." He busied himself with the hurdle accordingly, and when two of the hands presently came down from Drift they found their burden ready for them. The old, silent man called Gaffer Polglaze found sufficient excitement in the tragedy to loosen a tongue which seldom wagged.
Joan'll be a wummon 'fore us can look round, mother." "Iss an' a fine an' lazy wummon tu. I wish you could make her work like what Mary does up Drift." "Well, I dunnaw. You see there's all sorts of girls, same as plants an' 'osses an' cetera. Some's for work, some's for shaw. You 'specks a flower to be purty, but you doan't blame a 'tater plant 'cause 'e ed'n particular butivul.
You caan't knaw what this is to me, you doan't understan' a wummon faaced wi' a coil like this here. Joe Joe as loved 'er, I s'pose, differ'nt to what 'e did me. An' she, when his back weer turned an' an' me God help me! as never could do less than love en through all!" She was gone before he had time to answer, but he realized her mighty agony of mind and stood dumb and frightened before it.
Hold yourself back, Michael, for us caan't say nothin' sure till us knaws the truth from Joan." "She've tawld me the truth out a walkin' an' I've shawed her the narrer path. What should you find?" "Money no lil come-by-chance neither; more money than ever you or me seed in our born days afore or shall agin." "You'm dreamin', wummon!" he said.
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