“Well, sir, I believe you be right, and perhaps I know summat. But it’s part guessing.—I believe my Agnes and Joe Harper are as fond upon one another as any two in the county.”
“Are they not going to be married then?”
“There be the pint, sir. I don’t believe Joe ever said a word o’ the sort to Aggy. She never could ha’ kep it from me, sir.”
“Why doesn’t he then?”
“That’s the pint again, sir. All as knows him says it’s because he be in such bad health, and he thinks he oughtn’t to go marrying with one foot in the grave. He never said so to me; but I think very likely that be it.”
“For that matter, Mrs. Coombes, we’ve all got one foot in the grave, I think.”
“That be very true, sir.”
“And what does your daughter think?”
“I believe she thinks the same. And so they go on talking to each other, quiet-like, like old married folks, not like lovers at all, sir. But I can’t help fancying it have something to do with my Aggy’s pale face.”
“And something to do with Joe’s pale face too, Mrs. Coombes,” I said. “Thank you. You’ve told me more than I expected. It explains everything. I must have it out with Joe now.”