“I suppose not. Did you know him?”
“Know him? Not I. He warn’t our sort.”
“You used to go and hear him, I suppose?”
“Go and hear him? Well, that’s a good one,” said the workman; and a laugh transformed his face, driving away the sour, puckered look, which, however, began rapidly to return.
“What’s the matter?” said the vicar, after a few minutes’ silent smoking.
“Matter? matter wi’ who?”
“Why, with you. What have you come up here for, all by yourself?”
“Nothing,” was the reply, in the surliest of voices.
“Nonsense, man! Do you think I can’t tell that you’re put out—hipped—and that something has annoyed you?”
The young man’s face gave a twitch or two, and he shuffled half round in his seat. Then, leaping up, he began to hurry off.