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"Ef yo're lookin' for yore broother, 'e's in t' oose long o' us. Wull yo coom in? T' missus med gev yo a coop o' tea." She went in. There was dusk in the kitchen, with a grey light in the square of the window and a red light in the oblong of the grate. A small boy with a toasting-fork knelt by the hearth.
"If I want that commodity," rejoined the squire, "I must go to another market, I trow. You legerdemain men be more like to conjure the money from our pockets than sense into our skulls. Vor my own part, I was once cheated of vorty good shillings by one of your broother cups and balls."
Everybody in the village knew about Dan. The postmistress looked up from stamping the letters to say, "Your brother was here a minute ago." Mr. Horn, the grocer, called to you from the bench at the fork of the roads, "Ef yo're lookin' for yore broother, he's joost gawn oop daale." If Mr. Horn had looked the other way when he saw you coming you would have known that Dan was in the Buck Hotel.
You can't treat a man of thirty as if he was a baby of three." She thought. "No. You can only treat a woman.... 'There is one eternal thinker' " A knock on the door. "There," her mother said, "that's Dan." Mary went to the door. Ned Alderson stood outside; he stood slantways, not looking at her. "Ah tried to maake yore broother coom back long o' us, but 'e would na."
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