Laura. I do love the taste of a spring cabbage, when it has a slice of fat bacon along with it.
William. I might have brought a couple of pounds with me if I’d have thought. Mother do keep some rare mellow jowls a-hanging in the pantry.
Laura. [Shyly.] Next time, maybe.
William. [Eagerly.] ’Twouldn’t take ten minutes for me to run back.
Laura. Not now—O no master—not now. Do you bide a little longer here and tell me about—about t’other things in the basket.
William. [Mopping his face with a handkerchief.] Well—there’s the beans—I count that yours haven’t come up very smart this year.
Laura. That they’ve not. The whole place has been let to run dreadful wild.
William. I’d—I’d like to show you how ’tis in my garden, one of these days.
Laura. I’d be very pleased to walk along with you there.
William. [Hurriedly.] Ah—you should see it later on when the—the—the parsnips are a bit forrarder.