"Who's Hastings?"
"Why, her bailiff, to be sure. You do be a stranger, not knowin' Muster
Hastings?"
"I'm just here for a few weeks. It's a rum business, isn't it, this of women taking farms?"
Halsey nodded reflectively.
"Aye, it's a queer business. But they do be cleverer at it than ye'd think. Miss Henderson's a good head-piece of her own."
"And some money, I suppose?"
"Well, that's not my look out, is it, so long as I gits my wages? I dessay Colonel Shepherd, ee sees to that. Well, good-day to you. I'm goin' in to get summat to drink. It's a dryin' wind to-day, and a good bit walk from Ipscombe."
"Is that where you live?"
"Aye—an' Miss Henderson's place is just t'other side. A good mile to Ipscombe, and near a mile beyont. I didn't want to come, but my old woman she nagged me to come an' see her 'ome."
And with another nod, the old man turned into the public, where his mates were already enjoying the small beer of the moment.