“I won’t guess. It’s too serious a matter.”
“So it is, my lass; so it is, and I’ll make a clean breast of it, Jenny.”
“Yes, you’d better.”
“I’ve won!” he cried, catching the girl in his arms.
“What! I don’t believe it.”
“I have, and enough, with what the brewers would advance, to take a nice little country pub—one we can make into a hotel.”
“Ah, well,” said Jane, primly, “it ain’t no time to be talking about no hotels nor publics in the middle o’ the night like this.”
“Why not?”
“Because it ain’t proper. Look here; is Mr Trimmer coming home?”
“What, ain’t he at home neither?”