Baldwin.
If you please, ’m....
(Bill, with an inarticulate cry, starts to his feet.)
Bill.
What the devil are you doing here?
Lady Patricia.
(Calmly.) Well, Baldwin?
Baldwin.
If you please, m’lady, I thought as I ’ad best watch the sun early. It’s close on six ’m, and I thought as p’raps you’d like some branches lopped ’igher up. The sun’s a fine sight at six, mum—much more light in it than a hour later, an’ it’s a neasier job loppin’ they ’igher branches than them out there, as I shan’t need no ladder.
Bill.