He stared out of the window until he had mastered himself sufficiently to speak. "I came to ask mun for what you aw Liddicoat."
"Aw Liddicoat?" A smiling light came into her eyes. "How much do I aw'n?"
"Couldn't tell 'ee for a pound or two; but if you was to draw out a cheque for me I could full'n soon as I get 'ome."
"You send me in the bill and I'll pay'n after I've checked'n."
Byron's face darkened. He would not be able to hide from her much longer the changes he had attempted. What did it matter? She could only be angry. He thought he would be glad if she were. "There's the men's money—three weeks 'awin'."
"I give'n Isolda yesterday. I expect she's paid'n by now."
"You ought to 'ave give it to me and I could 'av paid'n."
"So I should 'av," she answered peaceably, "if you'd been in to see me. But I give it to Isolda instead."
He was not to be placated. "Looks mighty queer you don't trust me with the money. I've to keep the place goin' and if I don't pay the 'inds who's to know I'm maister?"
"There's no need, for you bain't maister. You may blate morning till night, you won't 'av Wastralls, no never for, come to that, I don't trust 'ee."