"I hoped—you zeemed to like my playing."
"Was it you who played so beautifully?"
"I was up there practising just now."
"Do you often practise like that?"
"It isn't often I get the chance; I'm mostly busy varming."
"Farming?"
"That's it. And what with bad times, one doesn't get much time for the organ. And when one does, one's vingers run away with one."
"You a farmer?"
"At Pennington Varm. My name's Trivett, miss. If ever you would come in to tea, Mrs Trivett would be proud to welcome 'ee."
"I should be delighted. Perhaps, if you would like to teach me, I'd have organ lessons."