Laura. ’Twasn’t that, I don’t think.
John. Or ’twas that th’ old missis—she as is mother to Master William—her has a tongue what’s sharper nor longer than any vixen’s going. But that’s between you and I, missis.
Laura. Ah—’Twas that I did hear tell of. Now I remember it.
John. But Master William—the tongue what he do keep be smooth as honey, and a lady might do as she likes with him if one got the chance.
Laura. Indeed? He must be a pleasant sort of a gentleman.
John. For he could be led with kindness same as anything else. But try for to drive him, as old Missis do—and very likely ’tis hoofed as you’ll get for your pains.
Laura. I like a man with some spirit to him, myself.
John. Ah, Master William has a rare spirit to him, and that he has. You should hear him when th’ old Missis’s fowls be got into his flower garden. ’Tis sommat as is not likely to be forgot in a hurry. That ’tisn’t.
Laura. You carry a handsome nosegay of blossoms there, John. Are they from your master’s garden?
John. Ah, there’re not amiss. I helped for to raise they too.