“No answer, bebee.”
“Though the one was not quite so grey, nor the other so wrinkled.”
“How came they so, bebee?”
“All along of this gorgio, child.”
“The gentleman in the house, you mean, bebee.”
“Yes, child, the gentleman in the house. God grant that I may preserve my temper. Do you know, sir, my name? My name is Herne, which signifies a hairy individual, though neither grey-haired nor wrinkled. It is not the nature of the Hernes to be grey or wrinkled, even when they are old, and I am not old.”
“How old are you, bebee?”
“Sixty-five years, child—an inconsiderable number. My mother was a hundred and one—a considerable age—when she died, yet she had not one grey hair, and not more than six wrinkles—an inconsiderable number.”
“She had no griefs, bebee?”
“Plenty, child, but not like mine.”