“Yes, it is.—Oh, dear,” sighed Eliza. “Poor dear! Only to think of it and him only as you may say yesterday alive and well.”
“Ay, and so it is, and so it always will be,” said Bruff, who was standing by the kitchen-door turning some ale round and round in the bottom of a mug.
“Ah!” sighed Martha.
“Ah, indeed!” sighed Eliza.
“And me so ready to make a fuss about the poor dear because he’d made a litter sometimes with his ingenuous proceedings.”
“And me too,” sighed Eliza, “and ready to bite my very tongue off now for saying the things I did.”
“Yes, as Mr Syme says, we’re a many of us in black darkness,” muttered Bruff. “Why, that there hot-water apparatus is a boon and a blessin’ to men, as the song says.”
“About the pens?” added Eliza.
“You can most see the things grow.”
“Ah,” sighed Martha.