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She'd coot 'er toong out foorst, Assy would." "Nawbody'll get it out of mae, Mrs. Gale, though it's wae as 'as to sooffer for 't." "Eh, but Dr. Rawcliffe's a good maan, and 'e'll mak' it oop to yo', naw feear, Mrs. Blenkiron." "And which of 'em will it bae, Mrs. Gaale, think you?" "I caann't saay. But it woonna bae t' eldest. Nor t' yoongest joodgin'."

He looked at her gravely now. "Naw," he said slowly, "'tis noon o' thawse things. It's mae. It's mae yo're afraid of. Yo think I med bae too roough with yo." But at that she cried out with a little tender cry and pressed close to him. "No no no it isn't you. It isn't. It couldn't be." He crushed her in his arms. His mouth clung to her face and passed over it and covered it with kisses.

"We'll goa oopstairs now." He took her back and out through the kitchen and up the stone stairs that turned sharply in their narrow place in the wall. He opened the door at the head of the landing. "This would bae our room. 'Tis t' best." He took her into the room where John Greatorex had died. It was the marriage chamber, the birth-chamber, and the death-chamber of all the Greatorexes.

Then she looked up at him, but with more incredulity than reproach. "Yo' wudn'," she said. "Yo' cudn' bae crool t' lil Jimmy." He scowled. "Yo've called 'im thot, Essy?" "An' why sudn' I call 'im? 'E's a right to thot naame, annyhow. Yo' caann't taake thot awaay from 'im." "I dawn' want t' taake it away from 'im. But I wish yo' 'adn'. I wish you 'adn', Essy."

Jim's hand pressed hers and let it go. He leaned forward, his elbows propped on his knees, his hands clutching his forehead. And in his thick, mournful voice he spoke. "Yo wouldn't bae freetened ef yo married mae. There'd bae an and of these scares, an' wae sudn't 'ave t' roon these awful risks." "I can't marry you, darling. I can't." "Yo caann't, because yo're freetened o' mae.

I coom back to thot. Yo think I'm joost a roough man thot caann't understand yo. But I do. I couldn't bae roough with yo, Ally, anny more than Nad, oop yon, could bae roough wi' t' lil laambs." He was lying flat on his back now, with his arms stretched out above his head. He stared up at the rafters as he went on. "Yo wouldn't bae freetened o' mae ef yo looved mae as I loove yo."

In 1533 Chitor suffered her second "saka" at the hands of Buhadoor or Bajazet, Sultan of Guzzerat, who, after a grim struggle, obtained a footing at the "Beeka" rock, and, springing a mine there, blew up 45 cubits of rampart and killed the Prince of the Haras, with five hundred of his kin. Then the Queen-Mother, Jowahir Bae, clad in armour, headed a sally, and was slain before the eyes of all.

"What is it, Ally? What is it, loove?" She looked up at him. "I don't know, Jim. But I think I'm afraid." "What are you afraid of?" She thought a moment. "I'm afraid of father." "Yo med bae ef yo staayed with him. Thot's why I want yo t' coom to mae." He looked at her. "'Tisn' thot yo're afraid of. 'Tis soomthin' alse thot yo wawn't tall mae." "Well I think I'm a little bit afraid of this house.

The young man's right arm threw him off; his left arm remained round Alice. "It's yo' s'all nat tooch her, Mr. Cartaret," he said. "Ef yo' coom between her an' mae I s'all 'ave t' kill yo'. I'd think nowt of it. Dawn't yo' bae freetened, my laass," he murmured tenderly. The next instant he was fierce again. "An' look yo' 'ere, Mr. Cartaret. It was yo' who aassked mae t' marry Assy.

Yo're afraid o' mae, Ally, because yo've 'eard I haven't always been as sober as I might bae; but yo're nat 'aalf as afraid o' mae, droonk or sober, as yo' are of yore awn faather. Yo' dawn't think I s'all bae 'aalf as 'ard an' crooil to yo' as yore faather is. She doosn't, Mr. Cartaret, an' thot's Gawd's truth." "I protest," said the Vicar. "Yo' stond baack, sir. It's for 'er t' saay."

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