“I didn’t never expect nobody to be carryin’ on about my bein’ a vitty maid,” she said presently, in a low voice—not so low, however, but that she was overheard by the delighted spies.
“No,” agreed Giles heartily. “Ye wouldn’t be like to expect that—no, sure.”
Hannah was taken aback for the moment, but remembering Giles’ shyness, thought his unwillingness to pursue the complimentary vein which had so much astonished her in his letter, was due to that, and forebore to be offended.
“’Tis true ye must feel yerself by times at a terr’ble loss,” she continued after a pause.
Giles reflected—
“Well, I haven’t got on so bad so far,” he observed. “Nay, I haven’t got on so bad. But I don’t say—” here he gulped down a huge morsel and his natural timidity at the same time. “But I don’t say as I shouldn’t get on better wi’ a ’ooman to do for me. I don’t say as I shouldn’t. I can’t say no fairer than that.”
He paused, and then, with a leer that was distinctly amorous, edged himself a little nearer to her. “Seein’ as some folks as needn’t be mentioned have a-took a fancy to I—”
“Lard, Mr Neale,” interrupted Hannah coyly. “Whatever did put sich a notion into your head?”
Again Giles fixed his twinkling eyes upon her with a glance that was unutterably knowing, and returned—
“Ye wouldn’t be here if ye hadn’t, would ye now?”