Duffy. Never the better for thee, I bla, Huey. What do bring thee here this time of night?
Huey. Why, thee art never the worse, nan, I’m sure. Nor thee cussent say that the lanes are longer than the love neither, when I’m come a-courting to thee with this rainy weather.
[Huey places himself on the chimney-stool, at a good distance from Duffy.
D. Why doesn’t aw come a little nearer then, Huey?
H. Near enuff, I bla.
D. Nearer the fire, I mean. Why doesn’t aw speak to me then, Huey?
H. What shall I say, nan?
D. Why, say thee dost love me, to be sure.
H. So I do.