“There’s more in it, mayhap, than just that,” said Tom, blowing the froth off his beer.
“To come down here without with your leave or by your leave, to squat in the Grange here like gipsey would on Cressley Common, as tho’ she was lady of all—to hurt who she pleased, and live as she liked. More in’t than that, ye say, what more?”
“Hoot, how should I know? Mayhap she thinks she’s as good a right as another to a bit and a welcome down here.”
“She was here before—years enough gone now, and long enough she stayed, and cost a pretty penny, too, I warrant you. Them was more tired of her than me—guest ever, welcome never, they say. She was a play-actor, or something, long ago—a great idle huzzy, never would earn a honest penny, nor do nothing useful, all her days.”
“Aye, Joan reels ill and winds worse, and de’il a stomach she has to spin—that’ll be the way wi’ her, I swear—ha, ha, ha. She’ll not be growin’ richer, I warrant—left in the mud and found in the mire—they folk knows nout o’ thrift, and small luck and less good about ’em.”
“If ye heard her talk, Tom, ye’d soon know what sort she is, always cravin’—she would not leave a body a shillin’ if she could help it.”
“Ay, I warrant, women, priests, and poultry have never enough,” said Tom. “I know nout about her, nor who she’s a lookin’ after here, but she’s safe enough now I take it; and bloody folks, they say, digs their own graves. But as I said, I knows nout about her, and I say nout, and he that judges as he runs may owertake repentance.”
“’Tis easy judgin’ here, I’m thinkin’. Killin’ and murder’s near akin, and when Mr. Charles cools a bit, he’ll thank Squire Rodney for riddin’ his house of that blind serpent. ’Tis somethin’ to be so near losing his wife. So sure as your hand’s on that mug it would a’ bin done while the cat’s lickin’ her ear if he had not bounced in on the minute, and once dead, dead as Adam.”
“Who loseth his wife and sixpence hath lost a tester, they do say,” answered Tom, with a laugh.
“None but a born beast would say so!” said Mildred Tarnley, with a swarthy flush, and striking her hand sternly on the table.