“When not wi’ Dame Haryott, sir, or slave-driving Willum Thompson.... A on-common dirty soldier he’d ha’ made, sir!”
“You see her—Mrs. Rose—frequently, then?”
“I do, sir.”
“And do you still think her ... ‘leggy’ was the term, I fancy?”
“Aye, sir, but I beg to withdraw ‘leggy’ as not being in order, Mrs. Rose not being ex-actly what she seems.”
“Explain, Bob.”
“Well, sir, her speech don’t always match her country clothes, and sometimes she’s that haughty!”
“Aye, I’ve noticed the same, myself.”
“Yes, your honour.”
“What d’ye mean by ‘yes,’ Bob?”