“Oh, Poll, Poll, it’s the will of the Lord.”
“Don’t come over me with your cant. I’m goin’ out now. I’d like a drop of the medicine ef what you tells me about it is true, but I’ll not wait. Good-night, neighbour; I must be goin’ home to Jill.”
“The chemist said as he’d speak to you, neighbour, and he seems a kind sort o’ a man. You oughtn’t to go away without seeing him.”
“I don’t want to see him; let me pass.”
Poll approached the door of the little room. It was opened from behind, and the chemist came back.
“I am glad you are better,” he said.
Poll dropped a curtsey.
“Yes, sir, and I’m obleeged to you. I’ll be goin’ home now.”
“I should like to speak to you, first. Perhaps this woman would wait in the shop.”
“No, she needn’t do that,” said Poll. “Jeanie will want you, Betsy. You’d best be goin’ back to her. Good-night.”