Omen. I wish I’d been with you, Mabel.
Mabel. I’m glad you were not, Owen.
Owen. Well, what did he say next?
Mabel. I tell you he said nothing, but cleared his throat and hemmed, as he does often.
Owen. What, all the way to the well and back, nothing but hem, and clear his throat?
Mabel. Nothing in life.
Owen. Why, then, the man’s a fool or a rogue.
Mabel. Oh, don’t say that, any way. But there’s my mother coming in from the field. How weak she walks! I must go in to bear her company spinning.
Owen. And I’ll be in by the time I’ve settled all here.
{Exit MABEL.