“Emma was a silly.”
“Hush!” Dap again indicated the child with his glassy eye, now trickling without the other as in half-mourning.
“Oi won’t hush it up. That’s got to goo. The mason’s got to cut another for me. Who arxed you to pay pipers?”
“Such a handsome stone to be torn up! It’s a desecration, it’s unlawful.”
“Unlawful? Whose darter is she, mine or yourn?”
“Not yours. You cut her off.”
“She cut me off. And ef poor Pegs and you had done your duty by my gal, he’d ha’ never crossed your doorstep.”
“He’d ha’ met her on the sea-wall. I couldn’t help his beholding her looks, any more than you could help having a handsome daughter—or for the matter of that, a handsome sister.” His handkerchief came out again.
“Oi’m not denying their looks—a man with half an eye could see that. ’Tis just the handsome gals as seems to throw theirselves away,” he added musingly.
“Maybe they are unhappy at home,” suggested the widower, with equal philosophic aloofness.