'Supper and a tot of whisky!' ordered his master.
Vessons took no notice, but eyed the horse.
'You dunna mind how much work you give me at the day's end, do you?' he inquired conversationally.
'Get on with your jobs!'
'Now, what wench'll cry for this night's work?' mused Vessons.
Chapter 23
Hazel ran home through the dew, swift as a hare to her form. Mrs. Marston, communing with a small wood fire and a large Bible, looked over her spectacles as Hazel came in, and said:
'Draw your stockinged foot along the boards, my dear. Yes, I thought so, damp.'
Hazel changed her stockings by the fire, and felt very cared for and very grand. A fire to change in the parlour! And several pairs of new stockings! She had never had more than one pair before, and those with 'ladders' in them. 'These here be proper stockings,' she said complacently—'these with holes in 'em as Edward bought me. Holes as ought to be there, I mane. They show my legs mother-naked, and they look right nice.'
'Don't say that word, dear.'