'An' does nothin', bless him! ha, ha. No more nor that old deaf gammon there that costs me three tizzies a week, and haint worth a h'porth—no more nor Meg there, that's making all she can o' them pains. They be all a foolin' o' me, an' thinks I don't know 't. Hey? we'll see.'
All this time he was cutting a bit of tobacco into shreds on the window-stone.
'A workin' man be same as a hoss; if he baint cared, he can't work—'tisn't in him:' and with these words, having by this time stuffed his pipe with tobacco, he poked the deaf lady, who was pattering about with her back toward him, rather viciously with the point of his stick, and signed for a light.
'It baint in him, you can't get it out o' 'im, no more nor ye'll draw smoke out o' this,' and he raised his pipe an inch or two, with his thumb on the bowl, 'without backy and fire. 'Tisn't in it.'
'Maybe I can be of some use?' I said, thinking.
'Maybe,' he rejoined.
By this time he received from the old deaf abigail a flaming roll of brown paper, and, touching his hat to me, he withdrew, lighting his pipe and sending up little white puffs, like the salute of a departing ship.
So he did not care to hear how his daughter was, and had only come here to light his pipe!
Just then the Doctor emerged.
'We have been waiting to hear how your poor patient is to-day?' I said.