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I recollected myself, and calling a hackney-coach, gave orders to be driven to the Piazza, Covent Garden. "Piazza, Common Garden," said the waterman, "why that ban't an 'otel for the like o' you, master. They'll torment you to death, them young chaps." I had forgotten that I was dressed as a Quaker.
'T is the first framework of an immortal soul you've got unfoldin', like a rosebud hid in the green, an' ban't for you to nip that life for your awn whim an' let the angels in heaven be fewer by wan. You must live. An' the bwoy'll graw into a tower of strength for 'e a tower of strength an' a glass belike wheer you'll see Clem rose again." "The shame of it.
Ban't no dearth o' chets or childern as I've heard on. They comes unaxed, an' unwanted tu. You might a heard tell o' some sich p'raps?" She blushed and shook with passion at this sudden new aspect of affairs. Here was a standpoint from which nobody had viewed her before. Worse far worse than her father's rage or Uncle Chirgwin's tears was this. Amos Bartlett represented the world's attitude.
His pipe was out and the "night-cap" Phoebe had mixed for him long ago, remained untasted. "Guy Fawkes an 'angels! here's a thing! If that Jack-o'-lantern of a bwoy ban't back again. He'm delvin' theer, for all the world like a hobgoblin demon, red as blood in the flicker of the light. I fancied't was the Dowl hisself. But 't is Blanchard, sure.
She sees that red-brick place rising out of the bare boughs, higher and higher, and knows that from floor to attics all may be hers if she likes to say the word. She hears great talk of drawing-rooms, and pictures, and pianos, and greenhouses full of rare flowers, and all the rest why, just think of it!" "Ban't many gals as could stand 'gainst a piano, I daresay." "I only know one mine."
Her tears were dry, though her voice was unsteady and her eyelids red. "Gude mornin', Mr. Chown," she said. "Marnin', ma'am. Let us pass, if you please." "Are you coming in? Why?" "Us caan't bide no more, an' us caan't give no more reasons. The Law ban't 'spected to give reasons for its deeds, an' us won't be bamboozled an' put off a minute longer," answered Chown grimly.
I can wait, an' Phoebe can wait, an' now she'll have to. I'm gwaine away." "Going away. Why?" "To shaw what 's in me. I ban't sorry for this for some things. Now no man shall say that I'm a home-stayin' gaby, tramping up an' down Teign Vale for a living. I'll step out into the wide world, same as them Grimbals done. They 'm back again made of money, the pair of 'em."
"Chris has often told me she's only sixty-two or three." But he shook his head. "Ban't a subject for a loving man to say much on, awnly truth 's truth. I seed it written in the Coomstock Bible wan day. Fifty-five she were when she married first. Well, ban't in reason she twald the naked truth 'bout it, an' who'd blame her on such a delicate point?
"I've thought that out, tu. I'll give 'e my word of honour 'pon that." "Best to seek work t'other side the Moor, if you ax me. Then you'll be out the way." "As to that, I'd guessed maybe Martin Grimbal, as have proved a gert friend to me an' be quite o' my way o' thinking, might offer garden work while I looked round. Theer ban't a spark o' pride in me tu much sense, I hope, for that."
"Blamed if I can tell 'e till I gather my wits together. 'Pears half a century or so since I comed; yet ban't above two hour agone." "You didn't come to see Sam Bonus, I suppose?" "No fay! Never a man farther from my thought than him when I seed un poke up his carrot head under the moon. I was 'pon my awn affairs an' comed to see you.
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