“Yas, Sir Gaffrey.” He added deprecatingly: “I know that I be raw, Sir Gaffrey.”
This mild answer had its effect.
“True—true. We’re at sixes and sevens, Charles.”
Much encouraged Charles grinned again.
“Ah-h-h! Flambergasted we all be this marnin.”
“Well, what is it?”
“Mr. Bonsor, Sir Gaffrey.”
“Tell him to wait. I can’t see him yet.”
“Yas, Sir Gaffrey.”
Charles withdrew, still grinning. The Squire muttered to himself: “Yas, Sir Gaffrey! What an oaf!”