"An' look yo' 'ere, Mr. Cartaret. It was yo' who aassked mae t' marry Assy. Do yo' aassk mae t' marry Assy now? Naw! Assy may rot for all yo' care. (It's all right, my sweet'eart. It's all right.) I'd a married Assy right enoof ef I'd 'a' looved her. But do yo' suppawss I'd 'a' doon it fer yore meddlin'? Naw! An' yo' need n' aassk mae t' marry yore daughter—(There—there—my awn laass)—"
"You are not going to be asked," said Gwenda. "You are not going to marry her."
"Gwenda," said the Vicar, "you will be good enough to leave this to me."
"It can't be left to anybody but Ally."
"It s'all be laft to her," said Greatorex.
He had loosened his hold of Alice, but he still stood between her and her father.
"It's for her t' saay ef she'll 'aave mae."
"She has said she won't, Mr. Greatorex."
"Ay, she's said it to mae, woonce. But I rackon she'll 'ave mae now."
"Not even now."