"Who es ther' that knaweth how to make sich stuff as that but me?" she said.
Her answer set me thinking, and I drew two conclusions. One was that the old woman was vulnerable to flattery, the other was that she did not hail from that part of the county in which I was reared. The word "knaweth" told me that she belonged to the northern part of the county.
I put another question in order to test the truth of both these conclusions.
"You look too much of a lady to be the cook," I said, "and yet I thought the cook would naturally make such things."
"Ther's no cook. Her's gone. I'm in charge."
She said this proudly, but although her answer was brief, it confirmed me in my suspicions. People in the western part of the county would say "She's gone," so when she said, "Her's gone," I was sure that she hailed from either Devon or from somewhere in the region of Tintagel and Boscastle.
"It must be a place of importance," I said. "Have you lived here long?"
"I was born in this parish."
"Let's see, this is near St. Minver, isn't it?"