"Oh! I thought so. Something has scared ye already."
"No, I'm not scared; that thing can't be done by you, Nance; but you have been blowing too much among the factory people, and I won't have it."
"Won't have what?"
"Won't have any more of this talk about going to my wife with stories about me."
"Who said I threatened?"
"No matter, you don't do much that I don't hear of, so mind your eye, Nance. As for the women at the bend, you let them alone, and keep your tongue between your teeth."
"Oh! I will; one can't blame you for seeking the society of your equals, after the snubbing you must get from your betters up there. But that don't satisfy you; you must drag that poor fellow, Evan Lamotte, into their den; as if he were not wild enough, before you came where you could reach him."
John Burrill took another pull at the black bottle.
"Evan's a good fellow," he said somewhat thickly. "He knows enough to appreciate a man like me, and we both have larks, now let me tell you."
"Well, have your larks; but don't sit and drink yourself blind before my very eyes. Why don't you go?"