"It'll not bae soa baad. Whan I'm out in t' mistal and in t' fields and thot, yo'll have Maaggie with yo."
She whispered. "Jim—I can't bear Maggie. I'm afraid of her."
"Afraid o' pore Maaggie?"
He took it in. He wondered. He thought he understood.
"Maaggie sall goa. I'll 'ave anoother. An' yo sall 'ave a yooung laass t' waait on yo. Ef it's Maaggie, shea sall nat stand in yore road."
"It isn't Maggie—altogether."
"Than—for Gawd's saake, loove, what is it?"
She sobbed. "It's everything. It's something in this house—in this room."
He looked at her gravely now.
"Naw," he said slowly, "'tis noon o' thawse things. It's mae. It's mae yo're afraid of. Yo think I med bae too roough with yo."