Andrew. What are you talking about, May? Do you mean that the tongue of her was not speaking as the heart of her did feel?
May. I guess ’twas sommat like that, Andrew.
Andrew. O May, you have gladdened me powerful by these words.
May. But, O you must not tell of me, Andrew.
Andrew. I will never do so, May—only I shall know better how to be patient, and to keep the spirit of me up next time that she do strike out against me.
May. I’m not a-talking of Mill, Andrew.
Andrew. Who are you talking of then, I’d like to know?
May. ’Twas Annet.
Andrew. What was?
May. Annet who was dressed up in the cloak and bonnet of Millie that night and who did speak with you so gentle and nice.