Thwaite. Never's a long time.
Merton. But I mean it, I assure you.
Thwaite. Oh, yes, I daresay, you mean it—yes.
Merton. Good Lord! What an escape! I can't think how it was I didn't die, when my horse pitched me off on to my head and left me senseless. I should have died if you hadn't found me, and no one would have been the wiser.
Thwaite. There's plenty dies over here and no one the wiser.
Merton. I daresay.
Thwaite. There's plenty of others that's alive.
Merton. I wonder you troubled to keep another in the world then, Mr Thwaite.
Thwaite. It was the gal. She would have it we ought to pick you up, but I was in a hurry with some sheep in the cart going to Banooga.
Merton. And they mattered more, of course.