"I think it terrible kind of you to be here," he said. "To come here for to listen to a great gawkim like me."
"You're not a gawkim. You're the wittiest chap this side of the Moor. Leastways my father always says so."
"Very kind of him. There's no man I'd sooner please. Well--well--'tis a thing easily said and yet-- However, all the same, I wouldn't say it to-day if I hadn't axed you to come here, for I had a fore-token against it yesterday."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"A white rabbit. You'll laugh, but your mother wouldn't. And my father have a great feeling against 'em, though he can't explain it, and grows vexed if anybody says anything. Not on the warren; but over on the errish[#] down to Yellowmead I seed it."
[#] Errish = Stubble.
"I care nothing for that--at least--" She stopped doubtfully.
"If you don't care, more won't I. Then here goes. Can you hear it? Can a rare maiden like you let a rough chap like me offer to marry her? For that's what I've axed you to come here about."
She was silent and he spoke again.
"Could you? There's things in my favour as well as things against me."