“Do he knaw you’m tokened to Clem?”
“Caan’t say. It almost ’peared as if he didn’t last time he called.”
“Then sooner he do the better. Axed you to call un ’Martin’!”
He stopped and mused, then spoke again.
“Our love-makin’s a poor business, sure enough. I’ve got what I wanted an’, arter this marnin’, could ’most find it in me to wish my cake was dough again; an’ you—you ain’t got what you want, an’ ban’t no gert sign you will, for Clem’s the weakest hand at turnin’ a penny ever I met.”
“I’ll wait for un, whether or no,” said Chris, fiercely. “I’ll wait, if need be, till we’m both tottling auld mumpheads!”
“Ess; an’ when Martin Grimbal knaws that is so, ’twill be time enough to ax un for work, I dare say,—not sooner. Better he should give Clem work than me. I’d thought of him myself, for that matter.”
“I’ve axed Clem to ax un long ago, but he won’t.”
“I’ll go and see Clem right away. ’Tis funny he never let the man knaw ’bout you. Should have been the first thing he tawld un.”
“Perhaps he thought ’twas so far off that—”