“You!” returned Hylton.
“Where’s the good of talking to thee? As well essay to learn a sparrow to sing, ‘J’ay tout perdu mon temps.’”
“I think you should have lost your time in very deed, and your labour belike, if you spent them on broidering gowns and stitching on buttons, when you had enow aforetime.”
“Thou sely loon! (Simple creature!) Dost reckon I mean to work mine own broidery, trow? I’d have a fair score of maidens alway a-broidering for me, so that I might ever have a fresh device when I lacked a new gown.”
“The which should come in a year to—how much?”
“Dost look for me to know?”
“I do, when I have told you. Above an hundred and twenty pound, Master Matthew. That should your bravery cost you, in broidering-maids alone.”
“Well! what matter, so I had it?”
“It might serve you. I should desire to buy more happiness with such a sum than could be stitched into golden broidery and seed-pearl.”
“Now come, Norman, let us hear thy notion of happiness. If thou hadst in thine hand an hundred pound, what should’st do withal?”