The man did not reply; he turned away to give a last hoist to the hay as the waggon moved off. He was used to these remarks from kindly busy-bodies, and he never paid more than scant attention to them, but went his own way as he listed.
“’E be downright silly over ’er, that’s what ’e be,” declared the woman confidentially to a girl who had been working beside her.
“Be ’e ’er dad?” asked the girl, who was a stranger in the parish.
The woman laughed.
“What makes ye ask that?” said she.
“Well,” said the girl, “’e looks old to be ’er dad. I thought ’e might be ’er gran-dad.”
“Oh, I see,” said the woman. “No, he ain’t ’er gran-dad.”
“Married a bit on in life p’r’aps,” said the other, tying the strings of her sun-bonnet and speaking without any particular interest.
“That’s it,” assented the woman, “and more fool ’e. ’E would ’ave a young wife, and a pretty ’un too—and ’e turned forty.”
“Well, small blame to ’im there,” laughed the girl. “And so long as she were pleased....”