"Supposin' you 'ad various veins in your legs."
"Don't be nasty."
"Well, wot jer want to talk about my legs for, if I mustn't talk about yours," he grumbled.
"You've got a lewd mind, Bindle," she retorted, "and you know it."
"Well, any'ow, I ain't got lood legs."
She drew in her lips; but said nothing.
"I don't know wot 'Earty wants to come down to a funny little 'ole like this for," grumbled Bindle, as they walked across the meadow adjoining the camping-ground, making for a spot that would give them a view of the field-path leading to the station.
"It's because he wants to buy some fruit."
"I thought there was somethink at the back of the old bird's mind," he remarked. "'Earty ain't one to spend railway fares jest for the love o' seein' you an' me, Mrs. B. It's apples 'es after—reg'lar old Adam 'e is. You only got to watch 'im with them gals in the choir."
"If you talk like that I shall leave you," she cried angrily; "and it's strawberries, apples aren't in yet," she added, as if that were a circumstance in Mr. Hearty's favour.